No escape
by Marijeme
Summary: Set after Luke and Andy break up, but before Andy and Sam get together. Andy faces someone from her past, who stirs up trouble for her. She tries to hide everything from Sam, but he's not going to let her off easy. Why won't she let him help? Can he convince her before everything gets out of hand?
1. Chapter 1

_Hi fellow Rookie Blue fans, thanks for reading my story. This is my first attempt at a fan fic since The X-Files (though I have been writing a few regular stories), and my first English one. I've been reading a lot of stories here, and I felt inspired._

_I'm not a native English speaker, so i hope you'll forgive me if my spell-check and I missed some spelling errors. I would love to hear what you think, and if I should continue._

* * *

Sam Swarek tapped his fingers rhythmically against the hood of his truck, while he blankly stared at the screen of his phone in his other hand. There was nothing on there, really, but he didn't want to raise questions among his colleagues as to why he was waiting (or who he was waiting for) in the parking lot after work, so he tried looking busy when he was really keeping watch on the door of the precinct.

He was more than a little pissed. He was actually flat-out angry if he thought about it, but he tried to tame himself, for now. He had to get the facts straight first. He had lost too many battles by going out with guns blazing when a careful approach would have suited much, much better. And this situation required the utmost delicacy.

But did she really think she could lie to him? That he wouldn't just know right away? Now, that was just insulting. He didn't survive the streets for all that time by not being able to tell when people were lying. And she was a terrible liar anyway. She was good at a lot of things, she had great instincts and he would trust her with his life any day of the week, but lying was definitely not one of her strong points.

Wasn't that one of the reasons he was so crazy about her? Her blatant honesty? He remembered how endearing she was on her first undercover op. Total bust. But she had learned to use her strengths, and to tell the truth as much as possible. When they went undercover together, she had totally sold her character. Not only that, but she had saved his butt. But that still didn't mean he couldn't see right through her lies.

He quickly turned his gaze upward as the door creaked. Nash came walking out with a big smirk on her face, followed by a laughing Epstein and a confused looking Diaz. "What? I really thought that was pretty informative. Dunno why that's so funny!" The statement prompted another laugh outburst from Epstein. Nash seemed to take pity on Diaz, and she leaned over to explain him something in a hush tone. He responded by quickly turning red as a tomato. "Oh. Did I really say that?" The trio walked on, as the laughter grew louder. They didn't even notice Sam.

Sam waved goodbye to a few officers that passed him. Normally Sam would love to chat a bit with his colleagues from 15th division, or join them for a drink at the Penny, but today his mind was grim and he was in no mood for idle talk.

Where was she? She never took that long to change after shift. Was she avoiding her friends, just as she was avoiding him? Totally possible. He had been on the look-out all day, waiting for her to come into the station during shift, if only just once. But she never showed. When today's shift had ended, she was late coming back as well.

Finally, after a few more minutes waiting, he saw her coming out. His doe-eyed rookie; Andy McNally. Stubborn. Naïve in her belief in humanity. Too many times she spoke without thinking (which truthfully he had to admit, he absolutely adored about her). But also absolutely capable at her job. Instinctive. Loyal to the bone. And, of course, stunningly beautiful.

She didn't see him, even when she almost passed by him, her thoughts seemed almost a mile away. But he wasn't about to let her go. "McNally." She stopped in her tracks, and turned towards him. "Sam? What are you still doing here?" She avoided eye contact with him, just as she had been doing all week long. That alone should have been enough to arouse suspicions. Why didn't he confront her sooner? He had known right away something was wrong, not just the whole Luke fiasco (which she clearly wasn't completely over yet), but he was too afraid to stifle her, to invade her personal space. So he just waited for her to come to him. Which she didn't, of course. She never was one to admit she needed help. _Idiot. I should have never waited to find out what was up with her. I should have pulled her in an empty interview room, and made her tell me everything._

Sam put his phone away and took his keys. He motioned to his truck.

"Get in. I'll give you a ride home." She didn't move, but shifted her bag nervously to the other shoulder, still looking everywhere and anywhere but at him.

"That's okay. I'll walk, it's a nice day." She put an effort in keeping her voice light. _No way, _Sam thought. Not this time. She wasn't getting off that easy.

"McNally, get in the truck." He used his sternest TO voice, leaving no room for discussion. He did not await her response, but just got behind the wheel of his truck. _1…2…3…4… _He counted the seconds.A smile crept on his lips for a split second when he heard her open his passenger door, and Andy got in his truck.

They had gotten a few blocks away from the precinct when Sam broke the silence. She sat beside him, pretending to stare out the window, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"So…" He began, "A candlestick?" His question (not really a question) filled the air. She nodded softly. "Yeah." Her voice broke something inside Sam. She sounded so fragile, so sad, so… defeated. He really hated seeing her this way. He just wanted to fix it, make it all better for her. Hold her close until the world was right again. But what could he do when she wouldn't let him in?

"Andy, please tell me what's going on." He quickly glanced over to her. She was fidgeting with a loose thread from her blouse.

"Nothing's going on. I'm fine." Okay, now she was getting him upset again. Why did she keep insisting she was 'fine', when she so clearly wasn't? Why wouldn't she let him help her?

He drummed his fingers on the wheel, contemplating how he would proceed. He decided he had had enough. He sped up, and then threw his wheel to the right just in time to reach the exit. She looked over to him when he parked at an empty spot, but didn't dare to ask. _No other cars in sight, good._He turned off the gas and rested his arms on the wheel before leaning over to her. "Let me see." Not a question, but an order. She knew better than to resist. He cupped her chin, and gently turned her head a little so he could clearly see the bruise on her cheekbone. He carefully traced the edge of the bruise with his thumb, studying it. Then he turned her again, so she could look her in the eyes. She stared back at him, pleading almost. "Sam…" It was almost a whisper. But she had to know it was futile to fight him any longer.

"Andy, who hit you?"

* * *

Andy should have known better. Why, oh why didn't she just call in sick today? With most people at work, she knew a little fib would do the trick. Chris and Dov she could fool. Even Gail was easy to handle if you knew how to approach her. Traci was a bit harder, but she wouldn't pressure the issue at work, even if she suspected anything. But then there was Sam. Somehow his eyes always seemed to pierce right through her. How could she have thought, even for a second, that he wouldn't just see it right away?

She was never one to be overly punctual, but she had made an effort to come in extra late today, to avoid any questions in the locker room. She had made it into parade just in time, hiding in the back while still fastening her belt. After Best had announced the assignments and the pairings for today (Sam was assigned to the detectives on an old case today just like yesterday, thank god for small favors…), she quickly made it to the coffee counter and started pouring. Chris, her partner for today, was the first to ask. "Hey, what happened to you?" He pointed to her bruise. She had splashed all the concealer on it she could find this morning, but it was still visible, especially up close. She tried to shrug it off. "Stupid accident. I was reaching for something in my bookcase, and I dropped a candlestick on my face." The words sounded even more stupid then when she had practiced them this morning in the mirror, but Chris seemed to buy it. "Yikes. Looks painful."

A voice came from behind them. "It does. Some nasty candlesticks you have." She had not heard him coming. Almost spilling her coffee, Andy turned to him, carefully choosing which side of her face to show him. He looked at her inquisitively, awaiting her response. "Ah, yeah. I should have known better than to stash heavy objects on high shelves." She gave him her best smile before turning back to Chris. "Wanna head out? Don't want to get stuck in traffic on the bridge." She handed him the extra coffee she had poured. He nodded, and they started towards the door. She could almost feel Sam's eyes prying on her back. They had to get out of here, fast, before the rest of the gang would be asking questions, or worse, if she allowed herself to look Sam in the eye and the whole plan would come crumbling down. "Good luck with the paper-pushers today." And she sped out the door.

The whole day went by fast. A few routine calls, but nothing special she hadn't done before, so she could pretty much stay on auto-pilot the whole day while trying to collect her thoughts. Being partnered with Chris today turned out to be a blessing. Her good-natured friend was totally oblivious to her state of mind. He chattered the day away, talking about his night out with Dov last night, the conversations he had had with some drunken nurses, and whatnot. She was grateful for his enthusiastic talk, even if she only heard half of what he said.

It wasn't hard to convince him to eat their lunch outside, so they managed to avoid the station almost all day, only turning back once to deliver a suspect of a robbery. They rapidly booked him, handled the paperwork, and got on their way.

Andy left nothing to chance. She made sure they were also late to arrive back at the end of their shift, where she jumped in the shower and let the hot water pour over her, until she heard no more voices coming from the locker room.

This was stupid. She knew that. She couldn't avoid them forever. They were her colleagues, her friends… To be honest, they felt like family to her (but then again, her idea of a family might be a little crooked). But was it so wrong to postpone the inevitable conversations until another day?

And then there was Sam. Her partner. Funny, she liked to work with almost everybody at 15th, but he had always felt like her one and only real partner. Patrolling with Sam was different. Somehow he challenged her more, and she trusted him completely. With him, she just felt so… capable. He put his complete trust in her too, and that somehow made her trust herself more. There was no one she rather worked with; he had the ability to make any situation workable. But there was also a flip side. When he looked at her, his eyes seemed to go right through her. All her defenses, which she had worked years to build op, came crumbling down. There was no hiding from him; she had known that from the start.

The first time she drowned in his gaze, after their first case together (not counting the time she arrested him and blew his undercover operation, no that didn't count at all…), she had almost caved in. She wanted to let him take her home so badly… And do everything else the suggestion he had made entailed.

But she had made a promise to herself. No more bad choices. No more giving in when she had too much at stake. Even though she craved to feel the passion she instinctively knew he possessed and could awaken in her, she had to do the right thing. Too many disappointments, too much heartache. She had gone down that route before, giving over completely to one person, only to have her heart crushed. It always turned out the same way. She tried to give everything she could, only to find out it still wasn't enough. It seemed the pattern started with her mother leaving her when she was only twelve years old, was bound to repeat itself. But no more. Starting at the academy, she vowed to herself not to go down that route. Stable, dependable, that was going to be the new Andy. Playing by the rules, and being the best cop she could be, that was the goal. And hooking up with your training officer on your second day of the job didn't really fit that goal. So she resisted.

But the attraction she had felt for him from the beginning only grew stronger, as she gained respect for him and his methods. She loved working with him. His lame jokes that always brightened the mood, his rough-boy act, the way he taught her the finesses of the job without being condescending. He looked out for her, and somehow always knew the right things to say.

Still, she kept the promise to herself. She found a nice, stable guy. Luke genuinely seemed to care for her, and she developed feelings for him, too. Maybe not strong, all-consuming feelings of passion, but he treated her well and she enjoyed his company. Andy had thought this would be it. Surely he would never hurt her, like she had been hurt before. But he did.

When she found out he had cheated on her, she was devastated. Not so much about the wedding that would never be, but the betrayal stung her. So playing it safe was no longer an option; it didn't exist. Not where love was involved. Maybe she needed to focus on her screwed-up life before attempting to share it with someone. Maybe she needed to be a lone wolf for a while. No one to care for but herself, not even her alcoholic father anymore. He was finally sober now, and this time it seemed to last, although she kept it in her mind that you could never know for sure. So what was stopping her from being a single girl (woman), and enjoy life like this for a while?

But the universe had other plans. It seemed intent to throw all kinds of misery her way, even if it seemed too much to handle. She couldn't shake the past, it just caught up to her every time. And now all she could do was put on her happy face on, and avoid the people that she cared about, to keep from breaking down. And she almost succeeded today, too. She was almost out the door.

But then there was the matter of Sam, waiting for her in the parking lot, demanding to know the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks everyone for your story- alerts and favorites, and your kind reviews! I was planning on waiting a bit before continuing, but after waking up to a full inbox I felt inspired to try and write some more. I hope you'll still like the story, and where I take it. This chapter I'm switching somewhat between the present and past time, but I hope it's still clear. There was so much I wanted to describe without going in too much boring and repetitive detail, so I hope you'll bear with me. Please keep the feedback coming!_

* * *

"Andy, who hit you?" She tried not to think about his warm and tender hand, still on her chin. Or how much she wanted him to lean a little bit closer, and kiss her deeply. She wanted to get lost in him. But she just couldn't. This whole situation she was in now, proved that even more. She had to keep it together. But was there even a point in denying the truth to him?

"I've been a cop for too long, I've seen far too much domestic cases. I know a lousy excuse for a bruise if I hear one."

She pulled back from him a little bit, but enough to escape his hold. He dropped his arms to his side, defeated, and sat back a little. He deserved something of an explanation, she knew that, but she didn't want him involved in her mess.

"Its…" _Fine, _she wanted to say, but she knew that would not satisfy, nor calm him. Did it ever? "…Nothing to worry about."

Sam let out his breath in a loud puff. He looked through the windshield into nothing, carefully choosing his words. "You and me, we are partners, right? If something's up with you, I deserve to know."

However true that statement sounded, Andy wondered for a moment if Sam would be as involved if it involved Oliver, for instance.

"It's just a bruise. I'll heal. Really."

"And what about the guy that hit you?" She could hear his anger level rising. "Or guys, or girl, I don't know until you tell me."

Sam raised his brows scornfully. _Good,_ Andy thought. He was getting angry. Angry Sam was a lot easier to handle than soft, pleading Sam, with his dreamy eyes and his irresistible dimples. Angry Sam she could resist.

"I'm pretty sure I gave him a black eye in return. It was just a stupid argument that got a little out of hand. No big deal."

He smirked in response. "No big deal? Did you at least report him, whoever he is?"

_Oh yeah. Report him, good idea. Bring him in and invite him to chat at length with the people I work with every single day; not an option. _That way the whole story would come to light, including the parts where she had made a complete fool of herself, and the whole division (and probably some of the other divisions, too) would have another good laugh at rookie screw-up Andy McNally.

When everybody at work had seemed to simultaneously figure out that Luke had cheated on her (nobody loves gossip like a cop), she could barely stand all the hidden looks and the hushed conversations around her. She just couldn't go through something like that again.

Sure, Sam had been there for her. Wasn't he always? He never pitied her (she passionately disguised pity), but helped her deal with her anger. He seemed to know precisely what she needed.

But she couldn't lean on Sam forever; she had to grow up some time. And she was afraid of what he might think of her if he knew everything. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Andy shook her head slowly before turning over to him. "He knows I'm a cop, and it's not like he's going to try anything again. I know you only want to help, but it's done."

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath. "And how much do you know about him? Do you even know his name? Can we run him through the system, at least?"

Andy sighed deeply, and leaned back in her seat. "Sam… Can you just trust me on this? Can we drop it? Please?"

Sam stared at her vacantly. His frustration was almost tangible. "So you're not going to tell me anything? Thanks for you trust, _partner._"

Not awaiting her response, he turned the ignition back on and turned away from the parking lot.

The short drive from the parking lot to Andy's apartment was spent in silence. Sulky, tension-filled silence. What could she say to him? Everything short of telling him the whole story would only anger him more. And she had already decided against that, anyway.

He pulled up in front of her unit, and swiftly parked the car on the side of the road. Sam made no effort to speak or move. But when she reached for the door handle, she heard him swallow deep before speaking, as he looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Just call me if anything's up, will ya?" Andy nodded sternly. "Thanks for the ride." He gave her a quick nod back in acknowledgement, waited until she stepped out and closed the door behind her, before turning his truck back into traffic.

Later that evening Andy was sitting on her sofa, flicking through the channels on her television without really watching. She kept replaying the conversation with Sam in her mind.

He was hurt. Felt she didn't trust him enough. That stung her. She wanted to tell him everything so badly. But how could she explain? How would he react? Would he understand? The thought of him disappointed in her was too much to handle. It was all her own stupid fault anyway. She should have never gone to that bar…

That night, Andy had been angry, tired, and sad. The day had dragged on and on, and the news about her and Luke (and that of course meant, the news about Luke and Jo, too) was positively buzzing around the station. She heard her name in conversations everywhere, and people she hardly knew were throwing her pity looks. Even Gail was semi-nice to her. It freaked her out, to be honest. She felt like a Barbie doll, plastering on fake looks and smiles, and pretending everything was fine.

She had just moved to her new apartment and the walls seemed to cave in on her. Finally without the mothering influence from Traci and her mother, although always given with the best intentions, she felt restless to get out of the house, and drown her sorrows.

The Penny was no option. That would only turn out to be a rehash of the day at work. Same people, same gossip. Worse still, Luke could be there, and if she heard one more apology out of his mouth she would lose it completely.

The decision fell on a dive bar on the other side of town, which featured cheap drinks, and cheap conversations. She only knew about it because she had dragged her drunken father out of there at 4:00 am one night. Perfect for the occasion.

She went there specifically because she wanted to avoid familiar faces, but around shot number five (six? She wasn't sure anymore) she heard a voice behind her:

"Andy?" She turned around slowly, to meet his smiling face and twinkling eyes. A blast from the past. Owen.

Memories flashed before her eyes. _Many years ago._ _His voice on her answering machine. Pain stricken, and confused. "Andy? How could you do this to me? Don't you know I love you? Don't you want to be together?"_

His black hair was even darker now. She had forgotten how tall he was. And handsome. He stood there, towering over her, waiting for her to process the situation.

"Owen? How… What are you doing here?"

He motioned to the empty barstool besides her. "Would you mind?"

Did she mind? She was totally ambiguous right now. And the multiple shots she downed in record time certainly weren't helping.

Owen was dangerous, uncontrollable. But didn't she love him once? Weren't there beautiful moments of tenderness between them? _Promises spoken out loud in the darkness, their hands entwined… _But that was so long ago, they were still kids then. And the promises they had made together were broken, long ago. Back when they were young, foolish, and obsessively in love.

Andy remembered inviting him to sit down next to her, but why; she couldn't say. Talking with him was so easy. The talked about everything and nothing, but not the whole 'Luke' situation, she wasn't going there tonight. Nor did she mention Sam. How could she explain Owen what he meant to her, when that was something she didn't understand herself? They kept downing shots. It was no surprise she had become a cop, he said. he had always known she'd follow in her father's footsteps. The mood became flirty. At one time she suddenly noticed his hand sliding over hers. She was losing herself. But it felt good, talking with someone who knew nothing about her current predicament. Laughing without reserve, talking about the past, their shared teen rebellions. The memories from their time together came flushing back in full force.

When he leaned over to kiss her, she panicked. Quickly excusing herself, she fled to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face. Breathe. Think. Was she really prepared to go down that road again? Did she forget what happened last time? How it all ended? What was she doing here anyway? Her dad would kill her if he ever found out who she was drinking with tonight. That thought somehow made her giggle a bit. A grown woman, scared of her dad? But his words from back then still left their impression; _"Stay away from him, Andy. He's no good for you. You don't know what he's capable of."_

And she thought about Sam. He would be so disappointed in her, if he knew. The image of him suddenly rushed through her mind. Sam, her solid dependable rock, her partner. And much more than that, if she was honest (and if you can't be completely honest when drunk, when can you be?).

She had used Sam like this once too, to forget about her problems, after she had killed someone on the job. And it almost ruined their partnership.

Sam had been there for her, comforting her, reassuring her that the shooting was totally justified. But he couldn't answer her unspoken question; 'If I did everything right, why do I still feel like crap?' That night she had gone to him. He was the perfect solution to the emptiness inside her. Maybe he could make her feel… something. And boy, did he ever make her feel. His skilled hands on her body. The hungry kisses in her neck, his weight above her… She would have been lost in him forever if the lights hadn't come back on, and she was jerked back into the harsh consciousness.

But still, this thing with Owen wasn't the same. There was no comparison. Sam was there for her, always, and he would never hurt her. Even after that night of the blackout, he eventually forgave her and they were able to get past it.

But the man who was waiting for her in the bar wasn't like that. He had hurt her, more than she wanted to admit. All the nights crying herself to sleep, the screaming fights she had had with her dad. Was she prepared to forget all that? What for exactly? Someone she didn't even have real feelings for anymore?

Standing in the bathroom of a cheesy bar, staring at her reflection, Andy felt as if she just had woken up from a deep slumber. She had to get out of here. _Home, fast_. She resisted the urge to call Sam to pick her up. She yearned to see him, talk to him. (hold him, maybe?) Sure, he would probably come if she asked, but she couldn't be held accountable for what she did or said right now, so maybe not such a good idea, after all.

Andy slipped out of the bathroom. Owen was still sitting at the bar, his back turned to her, accompanied by yet two more shots. Perfect. She reached the door without him noticing, and slipped into the street, away from him.

She had thought that would be it. A night of drunken foolishness with a ghost from the past. But the following day she found a message on her cell. He asked if she wanted to meet him again. How did he get hold of her number? Had she given it to him, and forgot?

Andy chose to ignore the message. No sense in edging him on any further.

But he called again. And again. Was history bound to repeat itself? What had she gotten herself into? She felt foolish enough about that night, and the past she shared with him, without him hounding her. And it started to affect her work, too. Every time her phone rang during shift, she froze up. What if it was him? She avoided Sam's inquisitive gaze as much as she could, but it wouldn't be long before he noticed. And explaining this to him would mean explaining the past she had with Owen. That was something she wasn't ready to let him know just yet. She had to deal with this.

After another day of going back and forth in her head, she called him back. She explained cordially and swiftly that she had a nice time, but wanted to go no further. He started to plead with her, but she cut him off. "_Please don't call me again."_ Was she finally rid of this mess now?

Then yesterday happened. Andy had just come home from a particular nice dinner with her dad, when she heard a knock on the door. Her mind was still on the conversation of that night, so she opened the door without thinking twice. There he was. Owen pushed her aside, and rushed in. He reeked of alcohol. The familiar twinkle in his eyes had made room for total emptiness. She should have known he wouldn't back down that easily. He was out of his mind. Yelling at her, screaming she should come with him. It all happened so fast. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the door. She shoved him away. Then he hit her, swift like a reflex. Hard. The pain exploded in her head, and she almost fell to the ground. '_You said you'd never hit me again, remember?' _Now she got mad. What right did he have? Just coming in, bursting into her home? The little helpless girl she once was cried out in her. He came towards her again, but now she was ready or him. She made a solid fist and hit him back. The hit was not as hard as she would have liked it to be, but it did the trick.

The shock of her hit changed his mood completely. He swayed, looked at her in shock, and grabbed the spot she hit him.

Suddenly he was all over her, apologizing, was she okay?

"_Go. Just go. And don't come back, don't call, don't write, or I'll have my whole precinct here in less than five minutes. I think they'll be happy to lock you up and throw away the key." _He had looked scared, shocked at her threat. Or something that he saw inside her maybe, something he had never seen in her before? Either way, it worked. He backed out of her apartment, crushed, still muttering apologies to her. She locked the door behind him.

Andy had convinced herself no one would have to find out. Her candlestick story seemed plausible, right? And Sam was assigned to the detectives for at least another two days. If she didn't have to ride with him, be alone with him, she could manage. Well, that didn't work out as planned exactly, did it? He figured it out as soon as he saw her, of course. And now he was mad at her. Maybe she was being unfair to him, after all. Would he judge her? Sam wasn't normally the type to judge. But somehow Andy thought he would not like her flirting with a guy in some random bar. Not that she had to explain herself to him, or anyone else for that matter, but she couldn't help feeling she betrayed him somehow.

If she told him everything now, would he be able to leave it alone? Or would he go after Owen, and match the black eye she had given him with another? A good ol' beating, courtesy of Sam Swarek?

A loud knock on the door broke her contemplations. Sam? Coming back for the full explanation after all? Andy felt her resistance breaking. If she had to look him in the eyes again, she was going to tell him everything. She hated lying to him. Maybe he would understand, after all.

"Andy!" Okay, definitely not Sam. She instinctively backed away from the door.

"Owen, go away!" Her phone. She had to find her phone. And her gun too, just in case. "I'm calling the police right now!"

Another loud knock, then nothing. Was he gone? A thundering sound, and the whole door came crushing in. She had to get away, far away from him. But her apartment was small, with just the one exit. The same exit where he came running through, grabbing at her. He looked even more crazed than the night before. Drunk, again, but also something else. Drugs? She ran to the other side of the room, while she tried to brace herself for the attack she knew was pending. Andy didn't even see him coming at her until it was too late. He was too strong, resisting her struggle with ease. His hands were all around her, over her mouth, pressing some damp fabric firmly against it. After that, everything spun before the world turned black.


	3. Chapter 3

_Every review I get makes brightens my day! Thank you for reading! _

_I'm not used to getting instant feedback, I usually don't let anyone read my stories until they are finished and I'm completely happy about it, which is almost never, and it's so nice to see the story is making sense to more people than just me!_

_Took me a bit longer to write this one. I must have discarded and rewritten it like three times. The only knowledge I have of police procedure comes from cop shows, so I try to not make too many mistakes in how an investigation like this would be handled. Still not completely happy about this chapter, but there's lots more I want to write, and don't want to stay stuck here forever, so here it is!_

* * *

She was late. Again. How long was she going to keep this up? Sam sipped his stale coffee while leaning against the wall next to the locker room. Andy should have been here already, this was cutting it more than close, even for her. He should have picked her up this morning. Hell, he should have gone back to her last night. He had kept himself busy since he dropped her off at her house, fighting the urge to go talk to her. So, she didn't want to tell him what happened to her. She wanted to handle it herself. That was to be expected. But why did he let her? He should have insisted; made hertell him. So, after a night of inner turmoil and interrupted sleep, he decided that this had gone far enough. No problem if she got mad at him for insisting, he could handle it. Like it or not, Andy McNally was going to spill her guts. No escape for her today. Fine plan maybe, but it only worked if she would come in to work.

"Hey brother, coming to parade? Or are the D's still hogging you?" Oliver Shaw was standing next to him, wiping his smeared face with a napkin. The stains indicated Oliver just finished his morning snack. Something with mustard.

Sam just grunted in response. His friend must have seen something going on with him, because his face suddenly turned stern. "What's up?"

For a moment, Sam contemplated whether he should spill or not. Oliver was already ridiculing his 'special' attention and affection for a particular rookie, only every single chance he got.

"McNally is late."

"McNally is always late, Sammy. You, of all people, should know that." Okay, bad decision. Sam already saw the all too familiar teasing twinkle reaching Oliver's eyes.

"Not this late." He took another sip from his cup. Was he really the only one that noticed something strange with Andy lately?

"I'm sure she's on her way. Probably took the wrong bus or something. New place and all." As much as Sam appreciated Ollie as a friend and a colleague, right now he wasn't helping.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Frank was yelling in the background. Parade was about to start.

"Gotta go, duty calls." He took a step, but quickly turned back on his heels. "Don't worry, she'll come barging in here any minute now, I'm sure."

No barging in at the last minute. She had missed parade completely. No answer on her cell. The detectives could wait the whole day for Sam, for all he cared.

Sam cornered Nash as soon as she got out of the parade room. "Have you heard from McNally?" No time for pleasantries. "No Sir, and she's not picking up her phone either." One good look at Nash, and he knew she shared his worries. Finally, someone who took the situation seriously. "Sergeant Best asked about her, too. He seemed pretty pissed."

That was enough. No more waiting. Nash was Andy's best friend, and if she didn't know what kept her, who would? "I'm going over there. Tell Jerry he will have to wait." _Screw the case_. Those people would still be dead tomorrow. And he wasn't looking forward to spending the day cooped up in a room with Luke Callaghan in the first place.

"Sir? Eh… Do you think this has something to do with the bruise she had yesterday?"

Well, at least some people here still had investigative skills. "I didn't get a chance to talk to her about it, but something seemed off."

Off? That was an understatement. Some jerk hit her. Someone hit her, and she refused to tell anyone about it, apparently even her best friend. This was bad.

"Don't know, maybe. I'll find out."

_The hell with traffic. The hell with rules._ Sam used the sirens of the cruiser to effectively cut his way through the city. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Sam could feel it in his gut, and if he had learned one thing while undercover, it was to trust his gut whenever possible. But he so hoped he was wrong this time. The other possibility was not an option, in his mind.

She was probably still in bed, ignoring her alarm. But she never did something like this. She was frequently late, but not showing up? She was responsible enough to not pull a stunt like that. She loved her job. Nothing could keep her from it; she never even took a sick day.

He parked at the same spot he had yesterday, and hurried up the stairs to Andy's unit. In no way was he prepared for what he saw when he arrived. Letting out a gasp, Sam stopped in his tracks at the sight of what used to be Andy's door. The slab of wood was hanging loosely from its joints. Wasn't there a conversation, just a few weeks ago, after he had dragged the last piece of furniture up the stairs, helping Andy move in? _"That's a pretty crappy lock, McNally Want me to replace it?" _She had insisted she'd let the building manager fix it.

Yet another time he had let her of the hook when he shouldn't have. Why did he keep insisting on respecting her personal space, when he should have been looking out for her best interest?

Sam got out his gun. He should probably call this in before going any further… But he had to find Andy first. The living room was a mess. Several magazines lay splattered across the floor. One of the cushions from the sofa was turned upside down. Treading lightly, he gave the room a quick once-over. Nothing to see in the kitchen area; just a mug of seemingly untouched tea, with the tea-bag still inside. When did Andy make that? This morning, getting ready for work? Yesterday, after he left her?

The bedroom was empty, too. The bed was neatly made up. Did that mean she hadn't slept in it tonight?

Sam stepped back into the living room, trying to calm himself. He had to call this in. Now. Time for the circus to start. While trying desperately to keep his voice steady, he made the call. After he had heard himself say it out loud, a creeping dread took hold of him, choking him; "Looks like McNally's been kidnapped."

Officers were crowding the small apartment, pouring out into the hallway. Sam's eyes swam from continuous flashes of camera's photographing the evidence. Andy's belongings were plucked off the floor, tagged and bagged.

"So you're trying to tell me nobody saw or heard anything? Nobody noticed a pretty brunette being forcefully dragged out of her apartment?"

_This couldn't be happening. She was gone, really gone…_

"Have you seen what was done to the door? That must have made some hell of a noise."

Jerry motioned to an elderly man, dressed in a dark green bathrobe and khaki pants, on the other side of the hallway. "Manager says, people who live in the unit across from McNally are on holiday 'till at least next week. He occupies the unit next to her. Claimed he fell asleep in front of the TV around 9 pm, never heard a thing. Guessing from his not-so minty breath and overall aroma, I'd say he downed a bottle of whiskey last night. We got officers canvassing the rest of the neighborhood as we speak." Jerry sounded way too chipper, too normal.

"That's the building manager?"

Sam stepped towards the man, licking his bottom lip. "Hey! Why have you never changed her locks?" The man looked up at him, confused. "She asked you, couple of weeks ago!" He felt his resentment rising. If this guy simply had done was he was supposed to, what he was _paid_ to do, they wouldn't be in this situation. And nothing he said right now could make a difference. Sam felt like losing it completely, and was just about ready to take out his anger on this so-called manager until his fists bled.

But Jerry saw it coming. He swiftly enlisted the help of a uniformed officer standing nearby, together they ushered Sam away from the stuttering drunk.

"Easy, buddy. This'll lead you nowhere." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying to cool him. "We need to concentrate on figuring this whole mess out right now."

* * *

Andy felt like she was hit by a speeding train. Her mouth was dry as a bone, and her head felt doubled in size and weight. The small stream of light that reached her face was way too bright. There was something really wrong, something she had to fix. But what was it? Her memories seemed hazy, blurring her mind. If she could only grasp them, rearrange them in the right order, maybe it would all make sense.

Flashes of vivid images swam before her eyes. A well trusted face, close to hers. Strong jawline, little stubble on his chin, sweet sensual lips, and piercing dark eyes staring right into her soul, shattering any and all defenses. Sam. He was mad at her, but why? Had she done something wrong? And why did he look so sad? Was it something she had done, or said? How could she make him smile again?

And then, pushing the sight of Sam away, another face. Big green eyes, pitch-dark black hair framing his boyish features. Why did she feel terror running through her body at the memory? Wasn't this a face she once trusted, loved even?

"_It's all going to be alright. Just let me handle this."_

Owen gently squeezed her hand. Andy wanted to believe his words very badly, but panic almost got the better of her. After all, here they were, in the back of a police cruiser. Teenage delinquents. How had it come to this? 'Just a little drive, nothing special.' Was she wrong to assume he had really just borrowed the car for a quick drive? That his dad would not mind? After all, since when did 'the great sergeant Brooks' ever pay attention to anything Owen was up to?

It was evident Owen had been drinking (just a little bit, he assured her) the moment he arrived to pick her up. She was all too aware of the signs, from enduring personal experience with her own father. But she had gone with him, anyway. He would look out for her, like always.

He had been in a fight with his dad. Again. He was ranting about it, spouting curse words and getting angrier by the minute. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? Why did he hate his own son that much? Andy tried to soothe him, calm him down, maybe then he would stop racing through the dark streets, far above the speed limit. But her efforts seemed to have the opposite effect. He continued speeding up and getting infuriated.

He suddenly turned to her. "You know how it is. Your dad is almost as big of a screw-up as mine is." His comment had struck her. Sure, her dad was a drunk. Sometimes is seemed she was the parent, and he the child. But he loved her; she knew that without a doubt. He wanted to see her succeed, even when he couldn't himself. No matter how messed up he got sometimes, he always made sure she never forgot that. And he was there for her, unconditionally. Her father would never leave her like her mother had done.

But was there any point defending her father to Owen now, in his currents state of mind?

Sirens. Behind them, willing them to stop. But Owen made no effort to even slow down. She pleaded with him, stop, pull over! But he was too far gone, she couldn't reach him. A small smile reached his lips, was he enjoying this perhaps? He maneuvered the vehicle between traffic with seemingly no regard anymore for their well-being. Then she saw headlights of another car, coming right at them. Why was he driving at the wrong side of the street? "Hold on!" Owen cheered when he threw the steering wheel as far to the right as he could. The car spun out of control, then came to a stop on a patch of grass on the side of the road.

It was a miracle no one was hurt. The car was covered in dirt and scrapes, and Andy couldn't stop trembling from head to toe, but they were all intact.

The officer had practically thrown them in the back of his cruiser, yelling at them. He cut Owen off as soon as he started to speak. "Don't think for a minute I don't know who your dad is!" He seemed even more shocked than they were. He left them alone in the locked car, and started talking on his phone. His phone, not his radio. Why?

After a little while, another car came to halt behind them. _Great_. Owen's father; sergeant Rodger Brooks. He looked ready to explode, storming over to them. After a swift look at the back of the cruiser, he walked towards the officer, and listened impatiently while the young cop caught him up, wildly gesturing at Andy and Owen.

Was her dad on his way, too? What would he say to her? How disappointed would he be? Now he would find out his daughter was a criminal. Would she be cuffed soon? Would they bring her in to his place of work, throw her in a cell for all his colleagues to see? Owen should have never taken his father's car without consent. She should have never gone with him.

He placed his hand over her knee. "Don't worry. No way is my dad going to face the shame of me being brought in."

And he was right. Sergeant Brooks somehow persuaded (bribed?) the officer to forget about the incident. He drove them to her home, none of them saying a single word. When Owen turned to her to say goodbye (his father was talking to hers in the doorway, that couldn't be good…), she felt tears prickling in her eyes. The tension of the whole night had tired her, left her empty. He kissed her, softly on the lips. "I'm sorry. I love you."

"_I'm sorry. I love you."_ Why was she thinking about Owen now? She hadn't thought about him in years. Suddenly the realization her, like a jolt of electricity. He broke in. Grabbed her. And after that? Nothing.

Andy slowly turned her head, blinking against the sudden light that hit her. She would trade a limb for an aspirin right now; her head was pounding, making every movement painful, and clear thought almost impossible. Where was she? Not her apartment, for sure. She was lying on an iron wrought bed, hands above her head. Why couldn't she move them? Cold steel touched her wrists. Handcuffs? Did he cuff her? Why? What could he want from her? If only she had left one single hairpin in place after coming home, she could use that to wrangle them open maybe, but no such luck of course.

She was in a small room, almost no furniture but the bed, and a desk with a chair. There was a window on the other side of the room, with heavy dark-red curtains leaving only a small crack of light into the room.

After a short while the door creaked, and swung open. Carrying a big glass of water, Owen came walking in. He smiled at her.

"You're awake. How do you feel?" His gaze went over her, head to toe.

"My head… hurts." Was that her own voice, rasping and slurring her words?

Owen came over to the bed, slowly lowering himself to his knees. "I'm sorry. I had to drug you, or you wouldn't have come with me. Are you thirsty?" He pointed to the glass.

She was, she wanted to wet her dried-out throat desperately. But how could she know it was only water in that glass, and he wouldn't try and drug her once more?

"Where am I?" A million questions arose in her head, but she had to be careful with him.

He just shook his head, and seated himself on the bed next to her. "We're safe. They're not going to find us." Why did he sound so calm? Was he totally oblivious to the seriousness of the situation?

She shifted her body as far away from him as she could on the small bed.

"Thirsty?" He tried again, moving even closer to her.

Andy just stared at him, trying to sense his mood. Had he gone completely mad, or was there still some sanity left in him?

"Uncuff me." She hoped her voice sounded steady enough.

He snorted before pressing the glass against her lips. "Please don't be like that. I just want to talk without you running away from me. Now drink."

Andy decided to comply, but only because her throat felt like sanding paper. If he was going to drug her again, at least she wouldn't have to feel the agonizing pain in her head for a little while. So she drank while her kidnapper supported her head.

* * *

The floor of the 15th precinct was all abuzz. It seemed there was no one left patrolling the streets today. No matter if they knew Andy well or not, everybody was eager for news, and they all wanted to pitch in somehow. One of their own was missing. That was not something the men and women at the police force took lightly.

Frank had called a small group of them together to gather facts, and hand out assignments. He scribbled particulars and times on the board, besides it hung a headshot of Andy.

Sam tried to hide it, but that particular fact upset him. His tried not looking at it, but his gaze kept going over her soft features, her pretty big brown eyes… His rookie. What was her picture doing up there? That place was reserved for either perps or victims. And Andy surely was neither.

The other rookies looked like they were just one step away from breaking down completely. Their best efforts couldn't hide the look of pure panic on their faces. Diaz and Nash leaned against a desk, whispering small words to each other. Epstein stared silently at the board with eyes open wide. Peck sat at a small distance from the group, shoulders upright, trying desperately to keep her face blank. They looked so young to him now, more like children than ever before.

Oliver kept throwing looks between the rookies and Sam, like he was trying to decide who needed his consolation first. But what could he say to make anyone feel better right now?

This was so wrong… They were dissecting Andy's comings and goings for the past few days, her phone records, her contacts. Her personal life splattered out there on the parade room board, for all to see. She would definitely not like that.

Sam really did not want to be here anyway. He wanted to go out, on the streets, and find Andy. If he couldn't do that, randomly hitting objects or people that got in his way seemed like a good alternative. Doing _something_ would be better than just sitting here, letting his imagination go rampage.

No one had seen or heard anything from Andy after Sam had dropped her off.

Well, dropped her off, he practically threw her out on the curb, if he thought about it. Why didn't he at least wait until she was inside before taking off? What if whoever took Andy was already there by then?

There were multiple sets of fingerprints on the broken door, most already identified and excluded, but it still would take some time for the last ones to come through the system. Andy's phone was found among the rubble on the floor. Text from Nash, yesterday at 9:48 pm, unanswered. After that, nothing in her phone records until the next morning, when Nash and Sam started calling her. They had already identified most of the previous calls she had made and received. Nothing special, it seemed: mostly calls to and from colleagues, her dad, and frequent calls to a take-out place Sam knew all too well she worshipped. One number stood out, though. A prepaid cellphone, bought at a convenience store some weeks ago, had called Andy on multiple occasions, each call under 30 seconds long. She had called the number back just once, three days ago, not long after shift, then the calls stopped coming. The unidentified number even showed no activity after all, anymore. The store owner remembered nothing, of course, and the surveillance tapes of that day were long since taped over.

The last voice-mail call from that number had been recovered, but nobody here recognized the voice. A male voice, sounding agitated: "It's me. I need to see you. Why won't you call me back? I need to… Explain. Call me as soon as you get this, please."

None of them knew exactly what to make of the message. Who was this man? Why no calls before last week? Why had Andy never mentioned him to anyone?

Tommy McNally was being brought in to the station, for further questions pertaining Andy, and to listen to the message left on her cell. Apparently, it had been two days since he had last seen his daughter, when she came over for dinner at his house. That was before Andy had the bruise. Tommy didn't know anything about it, either, but at least it gave them a timeframe, of when the incident that ended with Andy sporting that nasty bruise, had occurred.

_The bruise. That damned bruise. _When he relayed the highlights of the conversation with Andy in the car, Sam was ashamed of his own actions (how could he possibly explain pressuring her no further, there were no excuses for his negligence). "She admitted it was not an accident. But she wouldn't tell me who hit her, or why." Luke Callaghan chose that exact moment to intervene. "That's it? You let it go at that?" He inquired with flaming eyes, penetrating Sam. Why should he explain himself to Callaghan? What was he even doing here? He had nothing to do with Andy, anymore. He had blown his chance to be in her life. And this was definitely not a homicide. _And it wasn't going to be, either. Sam had to keep believing that_.

Sam straightened his back and threw Callaghan his most evil smile. A volunteer for his anger relief? Fine. He was ready for him, any day.

Noelle came rushing through the door, effectively diffusing the developing situation with her statement: "McNally's father is in. He says he can identify the voice from the message."


	4. Chapter 4

_Welcome back! Not much action in this chapter, but I promise you more for next time. I'm visiting relatives this weekend, so it may be a bit longer before I update again, but I got half of the chapter written already so maybe I'll find some time to finish it. Please let me know what you think!_

* * *

"Owen Brooks, son of sergeant Rodger Brooks. Andy first met him at a police charity function." Tommy McNally sat slumped behind a desk in the detective's office, looking sickened with worry. He must have spent countless hours in this same room when he was still in the force, would he ever have imagined to be brought back here, but this time as a family member of a kidnap victim?

"I guess they could relate. Both raised by single dads in the police force."

Sam remembered the sergeant; a particularly nasty son of a bitch. He had quite he reputation for being one of the toughest, anger-prone cops of his time. They had celebrated his retirement with delight (and a good bottle of scotch). Never knew he had a son, though.

"Owen immediately took a shine to Andy. He started coming over to our house, and calling her, a lot. He was a few years older than her, and the complete opposite, it seemed. But Andy saw something in him. Before long they were madly in love."

Sam tried to picture teenage Andy, swept of her feet. Was this one of the guys she was referring to, when she informed him once about her youthful indiscretions of 'making out with the wrong guy'?

"I wasn't around… Much. And when I was, well… I wasn't there for her as I should have been. I did not notice how spiraled out of control it had gotten, before it was almost too late." Feelings of guilt swept over his face. None of the people present needed an explanation of what was going on with him at that time. Everybody knew Tommy McNally was a drunk, those days.

"He changed her. We fought almost daily. She missed curfew repeatedly, and started to neglect her schoolwork. So I said she couldn't see him anymore, that was nothing like her."

It still wasn't. Andy was just about the most responsible person Sam had ever met.

"One night, sergeant Brooks drove Andy home. His son and Andy had taken his car out without permission, when they were pulled over for speeding. Andy later confessed to me Owen had been drinking, and almost crashed the car while fleeing from the police. Brooks had made sure no charges were filed; he wanted to make sure his kid and mine still had the chance to become coppers."

Tommy looked around the room, scanning the faces. No shock there. Everyone on the force knew that issues (depending on the arresting officer) affecting police officers or their family were regularly handled within the force. Whether anyone liked it or not, that was just the way it was done. They were one big family after all; and family took care of its own.

"I unconditionally forbade Andy to see Owen after that. After a while, she agreed to avoid him. To be honest, I think the whole experience shocked her so much she started to doubt Owen herself a little, too. But he was relentless. He kept calling her, filling up our machine with pleading messages. He showed up at her school, and lingered around our street. He was obsessed with her.

I could see how it affected Andy. She had strong feelings for him, but he also scared her, kept her on edge continuously. So I talked to Owen's dad again. He said he would handle it. But his punishment probably only made it worse."

Okay, so there was a pattern with this guy. Any remaining doubt Sam might have had that this was the guy that had Andy, was fading rapidly.

But why now? How did he come back into her life, after all these years? Why had she let him in? And why didn't she just tell someone right away when she heard from him again?

"All hell broke loose. Owen blamed his father and me for keeping them apart. He broke into his father's safe, and took his valuables. He went to her school, and tried to convince her to come with him. He wanted to run away with her. When she denied him, he struck her. Gave her quite the shiner."

Tommy took a sip of water, obviously struggling with the memory.

"A teacher saw them, came to her rescue, and called me. I should have reported him, then. But Brooks was my superior, and I was running out of favors in the force as it was…

Plus, Andy begged me to let it be. She couldn't help still feeling for him, I guess. Brooks assured me Owen would never get near her again. So, I agreed to let it be. And he was right; the next thing I heard was that he had sent his son away somewhere, to live with a distant relative. I really thought that would be the last we would ever hear from him. But now there's this message… Are you close to finding him yet?"

* * *

A plan. She needed a plan. He was clearly not going to let her go. Andy felt a little more clear-headed now; the fog was finally lifted from her mind. Owen kept talking to her, ranting while he circled the room.

Looking at him now, she could not remember why she had ever loved him. Had he always been this angry? Was that the whole extent of their shared feelings from the past, that he had met her at a time when she was feeling particularly upset with her dad? It felt good, at the time, to share everything with someone who understood. Someone who cared. Let it all out, and not be so responsible for everything all the time. But she and Owen were not the same. Her dad had been a drunk, but he had always treated her with love. His dad was a sadistic jerk. Though Owen had never told her, she knew he was his dad's punching bag on a regular basis. Whereas Andy's dad sometimes cared a little too much, Owen's dad couldn't care less about his son. Provided that he kept himself out of trouble, he was pretty much on his own ever since his mother had died. But if he messed up in any way at all, he had hell to pay at home. After all, nothing was as important to the sergeant as his precious reputation. Owen had hated him, but was also discernably scared of his father.

"He can never hurt us again, sweetheart. My father can never keep us apart, anymore."

Andy waited until he looked at her. "Owen, listen to me", she said softly. "There are people looking for me. The people I work with, the police. If you don't let me go, this is going to end badly." Surely they would be looking for her now. They had to be on their way… She was going to see Sam again soon. But if she had no idea where she was, how could they?

A smirk came to his lips. "I've been more or less running from a cop my whole life, I can deal with it. I'm not going to let them take you away from me." He was still pacing endlessly around the room.

"What do you plan to do?" The question filled the air. _Are you going to kill me? Do you plan to keep me here forever, cuffed to the bed?_

Owen stopped in his tracks. _"_I'm going to do what I should have done, years ago. I'm going to take you away from here. Somewhere, where we can be together, at last."

Was there any point in trying to talk sense to him? Was he not aware of the seriousness of the situation?

"That's a long time ago. I'm not the same girl I was back then." Maybe he had not changed a bit, just got worse and more detached from reality, but she definitely had. She was much stronger now, more assured, and she would never let anyone treat her like Owen had done. That little unsecure attention-seeking girl was long gone.

"No, you're not." He chuckled. "You're much prettier now, all grown-up. And you are free of your dad, just like me." He came towards her, knelt on the bed. "I know we can be together now." His hand was touching her cheek, caressing it. Why did he have to get so close?

Andy suppressed the urge to yell at him. "When I saw you in that bar, I knew it was faith telling me it was finally time."

Time for what? For losing it completely and go nuts?

His other hand was on the back of her head now, pulling her close. He bent over to kiss her. Andy tried not to let him know how he freaked her out (he was unstable, and she had to be careful), how much she didn't want this, but she couldn't help to flinch at his touch. He noticed right away, and backed up from her. Suddenly his voice was full of anger.

"Why do you have to be so difficult? Don't you see what I'm doing for you? Why won't you cut me some slack for once?"

That was almost funny. Cut him some slack? She was the one cuffed to the bed.

"Owen, please… Don't be mad. Let's just talk about it, okay?"

Andy tried to keep her voice steady. It was very important to keep him calm right now. He nodded softly in agreement.

"But it's kinda hard to talk to you, with these on." She rattled her cuffs.

He seemed to think about it, weighing the decision in his mind. "How will I know you won't just run away from me?" He was examining her eyes for the answer.

Andy did her best to make her smile seem sincere and loving. _Don't let him know how scared you are, how much you despise him right now…_"You're going to have to trust me."

* * *

Sam had to do something. He had to keep busy. Anything to keep him from thinking about Andy. But what could he do? They had spoken with every witness at least twice. Sam had been door to door around Andy's apartment. They had pulled up Owen's record, which was quite a sheet. The sergeant had moved his son to live with a great-uncle in Washington, DC, where Owen stayed until the uncle died. Only a few speeding tickets the first year, two reports of drunk and disorderly, but later he graduated to multiple arrests for drug possession and assault. He had been incarcerated for a bar fight with some friends, while intoxicated. He apparently beat some guy so hard he wound up in the intensive care, and would never fully recover.

Overall, he sounded to Sam like an unstable maniac: not the best person to imagine being all alone with Andy. But would Owen seriously hurt her? Would he touch her? _She must be so scared… _He clenched his fists at the thought. If he only could get his hands on this guy! But first he had to find him.

Why did his rookie keep getting in this type of situations? Why was she so darn stubborn? She wanted to do everything herself, never daring to ask for help. If she had only told him when she had the chance, he could have fixed it right away, and she wouldn't be in this mess. Why couldn't she just have trusted him? Was she afraid to be judged, or found weak? She had to know he could never think any less of her. He knew what she was capable of, how strong she was. If he had only made sure she knew that, let her know how much he valued her.

But he had to admit his feelings for her went deeper than just respecting her as a colleague and partner. She was in his mind way too much for that. After almost two years of trying to deny it, he still wanted her, longed for her. He desperately wanted to hold her, kiss her, and make her smile. He adored her smile; it could brighten up his day any time.

The physical attraction between them was apparent from day one. Once he got over his anger towards her for blowing the case (eight months undercover for nothing) by arresting him on her first day, he was secretly impressed. And he had to admit it was not entirely her fault, he would have gotten away with being arrested for possession (after all, it fit the persona), if Jerry hadn't greeted him in booking while his contact stood beside him, thus effectively outing him to everyone on the streets.

The next day, she was assigned to him. Boyko's idea of a good laugh, probably. Not looking forward to babysitting an eager rookie, he had dragged her along while he tied up loose ends from his undercover case, testing her. But she had only impressed him more, with her initiative, and her fearlessness.

Sam knew the attraction wasn't one-sided. He picked up on the way her body reacted to him too, and was ready to take her home that same night. But she had been too responsible to give in. After all, he was her superior and training officer. '_Fine. I'll wait', _he had thought then. But she had kept him waiting.

Then she started seeing Luke Callaghan. Why, he had no idea. The blond-haired detective had never been any kind of friend of his, but seeing him with 'his rookie' only made Sam's resentment of him grow.

Still, she did come to him: The night of the blackout, after she had shot a kidnapper and child-murderer dead. She had looked so fragile that night, so hurt. When she pushed him against the wall and kissed him, he knew she was doing it for the wrong reasons. Those hands, that hours before squeezed a trigger and killed someone were now touching his bare skin. She wanted to forget, to feel better, and he should have stopped her before she did anything she'd regret later on. But her mouth on his felt so good and he couldn't bear the thought of releasing her sweet form for even just a second. His own body would not let him. Then the damned lights came on. He had her on his bed, ready for him, but then she was gone. Blackouts would never be the same anymore.

After that terrible and at the same time magnificent night, Sam had promised himself to stop caring so much. He was probably fooling himself thinking he could manage that, but he had to try. No thinking about how good it had felt to touch her all over, or how much he wanted to pull her close to him and hold her until the sun came up. Like it or not, she had chosen Callaghan, he had to respect that.

And after they broke up (or Andy left the bastard for cheating, to be accurate), he couldn't just sweep in there and try his luck, could he? She was way too hurt for that.

But what if he had? What if he had just told her how much she meant to him, how strongly he wanted her? Would she have wanted to hear that from him, at all? He wondered if she really didn't know already.

Sam had never been good at expressing his feelings, he knew that, but he had done everything he could to show her, in his own way.

Maybe if he had come clean to her, she would be here with him right now, where he could keep her safe from everything and anything. But instead she was gone from his sight and in the hands of a lunatic.

"Any luck on locating sergeant Brooks?" Sam walked over to the desk where Diaz was sitting surrounded by piles of files and loose papers, looking for an adequate place for his mug.

"Uh, well not exactly sir… He died a couple of weeks ago. Heart attack."

Sam clenched his jaw. Could they never catch a break? They had to get some solid leads, fast, but everywhere they turned the trail seemed to go cold.

"What about any other relatives? Anyone see Owen lately?" Diaz rummaged through a pile on his left, picked a sheet and read from it aloud. "There is an aunt, she lives over in Brampton. Said she hasn't seen her nephew in years, ever since he moved to Washington, DC. He was not present at the funeral, either."

"Anything else? What about the inheritance, didn't he come back for that?" Sam grunted.

Chris stuttered. "No, sir. He was written out of the will. He got nothing at all." He looked up at Sam with puppy-dog eyes. "Sir? Do you think Andy is…?" He paused, not wanting to finish his sentence.

He sneered in response. "Do I think she's what?" Sam crossed his arms tight around his chest, daring him to continue. He knew exactly what Diaz was hinting at. But he wasn't going there, refused to even entertain the thought.

"Do you think she's alright? If this Owen is really that in love with her, he won't hurt her, will he?" A glimmer of hope shone in his young eyes.

'_All we know for sure is that he is aggressive, unpredictable, and he has already hit her before.' _But no, he couldn't say that to this rookie. Diaz was already upset enough as it was, and he needed everyone sharp for Andy's sake.

"Let's hope so."

Sam was on his way to the locker room, escaping the worried looks his colleagues kept throwing him, when his pocket vibrated. Who the hell dared to call him now? Unknown number. Not really in the mood to talk to anyone, he picked up anyway: Maybe it was finally a lead that took them somewhere.

"Yeah?"

The hushed voice on the other side of the line made his heart jump.

"Sam? It's me. I don't have much time, he'll come soon…"

For a moment, Sam froze. Was this really happening, or was he imagining this? Then it all seemed to click, and his mind went into overdrive. It was her. It was really her.

"Andy? Are you okay? Tell me where you are."


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter might be a little dark, but I just love drama so much, it makes a happy ending even sweeter, in my opinion._

_Since my spacing gets deleted every time, I decided to add a line when I switch from Andy's to Sam's POV. I edited the previous chapters, as well. I hope it's easier to read now!_

_It would be great to hear some more of your thoughts about this chapter!_

* * *

Andy couldn't quite believe it, but she had convinced Owen to release her from the handcuffs. He assured her there was no sense in running anyway, since he had locked all the doors and windows. His trust in her words wasn't complete though. He stayed close to her, watched her like a hawk. They still hadn't left the room.

She knew she had to wait for the right moment, the right time to make her move. But what would it be? What could she do?

Then she saw it: a shape sticking out of the right pocket of his vest. A phone?

"Will you sit with me?" She had to act fast, before panic would take a hold of her completely. He eagerly obliged with her request. But why did he have to come so close?

Andy managed to fabricate a smile. She locked eyes with him while she gently caressed his arm. _Don't think. Just fake it. Pretend he's someone else. Pretend you want this._

Was that surprise in his eyes? And lust? Would she be able to fool him?

She licked her lips before firmly pressing them on his. Owen's reaction was unmistakable. He seemed to lose all the tension he had had all at once. He stroked her hair, her face, her neck. The kiss intensified quickly, and his eager hands were all over her.

_Now. _Andy slid her hand down on his back, downwards to his pocket. If he would notice what she was up to, all would be lost.

Moaning deep, he continued kissing her. Andy pulled him to her with both hands, while rapidly reaching in and pulling the phone out, and throwing it on the other side of the bed. Shifting her weight, she pulled the creased blanket far enough over the small phone, to keep it out of sight. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice anything.

She swiftly pulled back from him before he could finish unbuttoning her blouse.

"What's wrong?" He asked while breathing heavy.

"Nothing. It's just… I'm a little hungry. Been a while since I ate." Would he buy that? He looked at her suspiciously, but after a second he just shrugged.

"I guess I could make you a sandwich first."

First? _You're not coming near me ever again. _"Thank you." She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and watched him walk out the door, locking it behind him. "Don't go anywhere."

Andy heard his footsteps fading away. Snatching the phone, she jumped off the bed. What now? He would be back very soon. She ran to the window and opened the curtains. She had to get a fix on where she was, somehow.

Trees. Nothing but trees. She appeared to be on the second floor (too far to jump, even if she could get out) of a house in the middle of the woods. On the side she could see, anyway. Great. Sending a silent prayer to whoever was listening, she flipped open the phone. If the phone was password-secured or received no signal, all would be lost.

Maybe there was someone out there in the universe watching out for her, because it lit up, showing a weak but present signal.

She should call 911, but would she have time to explain herself, and her situation? Maybe not. Without giving it another thought, she pressed in a number she knew by heart. She needed to hear his voice. The dial tone was mocking her, taking way too long.

"Yeah?" _Oh my God. Sam. Please come save me, I'm so terrified and I don't know what to do anymore. I really messed up this time... I need you._

"Sam? It's me. I don't have much time, he'll come soon…" Were those his footsteps she heard?

"Andy? Are you okay? Tell me where you are."

She was so happy to hear him, she could cry. But she had to keep it together.

"I'm fine. It's Owen, he took me. Owen Brooks."

"We know. Where are you? Are you safe?" He knew? How? She had told no one about Owen. Not even when Sam had given her every chance to do so.

"I don't know where I am. He broke down my door; I was drugged and woke up here. I think we're in the woods somewhere. A house, multiple stories, with a porch. From the window, I can see nothing but trees. A lot of trees. Can't hear any traffic or anything." Would it be enough? Could they find her from this sparse information?

"Did he hurt you?"

Footsteps, coming up on the stairs. Owen was yelling her name. Oh god, he probably noticed his phone was missing. What could she do? She should probably put down the phone, try to barricade the door somehow, but the thought of hanging up now and losing Sam's soothing voice was too much. Andy ran over to the desk, trying to nudge it towards the door with her body and one hand, but it was too solid to move. And there would be no time anyway.

"He's coming! Sam, I don't know what to do… He's out of his mind." She settled to block the door with the chair and supporting it with her own weight, leaning against it with all her strength.

"Hang in there, Andy. Stay strong. I'll find you. We're coming to get you soon."

She couldn't stop the tears from falling now. Everything seemed so hopeless. "Sam? I'm really sorry I wouldn't tell you the truth before." She didn't know why, but it was suddenly really important he knew that. "I was ashamed for talking to him in the first place, I guess, and after he found my address and came to my house the other night and hit me, I just wanted it all to go away."

The key abruptly clicked and turned in the lock. Owen was pounding against the door now, screaming at her. Andy braced herself, but she wouldn't be able to hang on much longer. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. I should have known better, and been there for you."

A hard kick against the door propelled her forward. She clasped the phone tight, crawling away from the door the best she could.

"What was that? Andy? Andy, I need to…"

Owen came barging in, a hurricane of furiousness. "Sam!" She shrieked, and then he was all over her, grabbing the phone from her hands and pounding her repeatedly with his fists.

* * *

Sam was yelling into his phone. "Andy? ANDY!" It didn't matter to him that the whole precinct was looking his way. He ignored the people that came rushing towards him, willing Andy to please come to the phone and explain that she was okay, but then the unrelenting dial tone sounded, ringing in his ears. He leaned against the wall, seeking the support his legs seemed to be lacking. _This couldn't be happening._ Feeling the blood rushing out of his face, he lowered the phone slowly.

"Officer Swarek? Sir?" Epstein tried to get his attention, but Sam could barely hear him. All he could hear was Andy's voice, terrified, calling his name.

A hand touched his shoulder, shaking him. "Sam? Buddy? Are you alright?" He looked Oliver in the eyes, unable to form words.

Oliver pointed to the phone Sam was still clutching tight.

"Was that Andy on the phone?" Sam just nodded slowly.

"Let's give him some room." The officers around them backed up a little, while Sam managed to catch his breath long enough to speak. "Trace the call."

Suddenly Sam was the witness. They talked while they waited for the express warrant on the trace on the cell phone. He relayed the short conversation with Andy, trying really hard to concentrate only on the facts that could help them, and not on how scared she must be right now, or how infuriated Owen's voice sounded in the background, yelling at her. He should be with her, protect her from him, but instead he sat here while she had to face her attacker alone.

The rookies stayed as close as they could without crowding the more senior officers in a too obvious way. Was there no one not working this case?

"McNally also said he found out her address and came to her house, the night of the first attack." _After she had apologized to him. What the hell was she sorry for? _He was the one who had left her alone to deal with the situation, even though he knew something was very wrong and someone had hurt her.

This made Nash speak up. "Andy wasn't listed. She made sure of that after Daniel Baird shot detective Callaghan. If she didn't tell him, how did he know where she lived?"

Good question. She had seen first-hand what could happen if a suspect decided to come after her, Callaghan had only just survived the bullets that were originally meant for her.

"Maybe he followed her", Epstein said shyly.

All of a sudden it hit Sam. "Her dad's. McNally had dinner with him the night of the first attack. He must have staked out the place." Andy might have taken measures to protect her personal information, but her father had no real reason to.

"Maybe one of the neighbors saw anything? A car, parked in the street maybe? Do we even know what kind of vehicle Brooks is driving?" He had to get around somehow, in something big enough to transport an unconscious Andy.

"Nothing in his name. He must have stolen or borrowed one."

"What about his father's car?" Owen seemed stuck in the past, and the news of his father's death had most likely been the reason he had returned home. He hated the guy, so why not take his car again?

"He was cut out of the will. Car probably went to the aunt, along with everything else." Epstein was already typing on the computer in lightning speed.

"Sergeant Brooks drove a black SUV. It's still registered under his name, no records of it being sold." He scrolled down a bit. "Wait… There's a speeding violation from five days ago, downtown traffic cam."

"Sergeant's been dead for a couple of weeks. The aunt said she hasn't been in the city for weeks. Must be him."

So, it looked like Owen was driving his father's SUV around town. Sam had just ordered Diaz to call the aunt again to ask about the car, and Nash and Epstein to drive to Tommy McNally's street to interview the neighbors, when he saw commotion on the floor. Jerry motioned him to come quick, while unfolding a map on the table. It seemed they finally had a fix on Andy's location.

* * *

It hurt. The overwhelming soreness gave the impression there was not an inch of her body untouched. Andy had shielded her face with her arms as much as she could, and it seemed her left arm had got the worst of it. It felt swollen and was throbbing like crazy, only worsened by the rubbing of the handcuffs she had on again.

_Hang in there, Andy. Stay strong. I'll find you. We're coming to get you soon. _Where was Sam? Wasn't it about time for the cavalry to burst in, and safe her?

Was anybody coming at all? Would they find her before she angered Owen so much he went too far and killed her? Did they even have a clue where she was yet?

It was getting darker, so it would almost be 24 hours ago Owen took her. If they hadn't found her yet, would they ever?

She wanted to stay strong like Sam said she should, she really did, but her mood was at an all-time low and she felt more like crying until she couldn't anymore. Andy felt tired, so tired and empty; she had no more strength left.

But Owen wouldn't leave her alone. He wasn't shouting anymore since he had thrown her back on the bed, but he was still firing questions at her.

"Who is that you called? Who is Sam? Is he your boyfriend or something?" He squatted on his knees so he could look her straight in the eye.

"He's… My partner." She was too spent to avoid answering his questions.

"Is he the one who dropped you off yesterday?" The question surprised her. Was he watching her then? And was that really only yesterday? It seemed like a lot longer.

"Yeah." Why didn't he just leave her alone? She wanted to curl up in a ball and forget everything.

"Did you sleep with him?" His voice became more threatening again. _None of your business_, she wanted to say, but she couldn't take any more of his anger, and the beatings that came with it. Any influence she might have had over him was surely gone now.

"No." Almost did not count. Even if it was the best 'almost' she had ever had.

Owen appeared to believe her.

"Good. He seems much too old and cocky for you anyway." _He's in better shape than you are, and twice the man._

She shifted her weight on the bed, trying to turn away from him. She couldn't stand seeing his face anymore. Why had she ever liked him at all?

It had all just been a stupid teenage rebellion. Her dad had made her so mad those days, and she was tired of always doing the responsible and right thing, when no one else in her life seemed to. Being a grown-up all the time was so tiring.

Owen had been perfect for her, or so she thought then. He was handsome, and had an almost animal attraction. He was so angry at everyone and everything, and didn't care about consequences. But she had only fooled herself thinking she could be like him, for her it had only been an escape from her normal life. But you couldn't escape the person you were, change your heart. Her moral compass was way too strong for that.

And after everything went to hell, and Owen had shown her his true colors, she had just felt too damn guilty to blame him. He had loved her while she was only using him to try out a different kind of life, so wasn't it her fault it got so out of hand? But she had been a fool to think that way.

Andy had never understood why battered women made excuses for their aggressive boyfriends, but how was she different from them exactly? It might have been explainable when she was young. But even now, after he unexpectedly popped up back in her life, she had hid her bruise and lied about it, when she should have had him arrested right away. She could have at least told Sam. Why, oh why didn't she? Now she would probably die here with Sam thinking she didn't trust him enough, when he was really the only person she had ever met she trusted unconditionally. He would never know how much he meant to her now.

Owen bent over her with a tissue in his hands, to wipe the blood from her face. Her nose had bled a little before, but luckily it did not feel broken. She winced at his touch, but more from repulsion she felt towards him, then from pain.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Had he forgotten what just happened? Her arm was killing her more and more, spreading to her shoulders. Her stomach felt like it was filled with pebbles, from when he had kicked her. Not to mention the bruises on her face and the rest of her body.

"Are you going to kill me?" Fair question, she thought.

"Of course not", he replied undignified, "I love you." Did he even know what love was? Had he ever received or given real love?

He wanted to stroke a hair out of her face, but she backed up from him again.

"Then why don't you just let me go?"

His voice stayed calm and patient, like he was talking to a child. "We belong together. You just make me so mad sometimes… I'm trying my best, but then you… You mess everything up." Sure, she was the one messing up.

"And now you had to go and call somebody. Why did you do that? Now I have to change all the plans." He was starting his rant again, pacing around. She had no idea what he was talking about. What plans? Where did she fit in, exactly? Did he really think he could keep this up?

* * *

The sirens overhead matched the alarm bells Sam heard in his head. Finally he was able to do something, but what if they would be too late? The radio spat out short statements from the units from closer divisions, which were closer to the scene. _First house, clear. _

There were at least eight houses in the area of the cell-towers Andy's call had come from, but only three of them stood in a wooded area, all holiday homes from people out of town. They were searching all three for signs of Andy and Owen.

Oliver had insisted to ride with him, again. More cars from 15th followed behind. He probably knew very well that if Sam got his hands on Owen they could use all the manpower they had, to keep him from killing him. Sam was usually perfectly happy with locking up scumbags and throwing away the key, but that seemed like still too much consideration for this guy. He had hurt her, kidnapped her, and scared her. No one should be able to get away with that, and live to tell about it.

Another reason of Oliver babysitting him came to mind. To be there for him, if it would turn out different, and if they wouldn't find Andy sound and safe? To catch him if his whole world would come crashing down?

_She's going to be alright. She just has to be. A little shaken up, but in one piece. _Maybe if he thought about it hard enough, it would turn out to be true.

"Careful you don't tear the wheel off." Sam's knuckles were turning white from his firm grip. His first reaction was to comment on the right time to joke around, definitively not right now, but he heard that even Oliver's voice was shaky from worry. After all, she was also his rookie, and he always felt overly responsible about the welfare of his rookies too.

The radio came to life. _Second house, signs of recent use. Okay to go in? _

Sam sped up the cruiser even more, wishing he could teleport himself there.

The other officers were still cautiously surrounding the house when Sam pulled up on the driveway, so he quickly got out his gun and ran to the door to join them.

_Please be here. Please be okay, Andy… You need to know how I feel about you. _He had promised to find her, get her safe, and he was more than ready to deliver on that promise.


	6. Chapter 6

_This story is keeping me awake! I'm having so much fun writing it and hearing what you think of it, it makes me want to go on and on writing 'till the sun comes up! (gotta do something to survive the RB-hiatus other than re-watching and reading fic)_

_I's love to go on and on, but I promise you I'm not going to drag out this story forever; I'm starting to think about a new fic already for when this is finished to keep me occupied._

_I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

"Andy, if you won't stop wiggling like that, I'll have to put you in the trunk." Owen sounded like he was scolding a child for misbehaving.

She was spread out flat on her back on the back seat, hands still cuffed (the pain in her arm continued to get worse), and for good measure Owen had bound her feet too. But at least she wasn't drugged this time, right?

"Where are you taking me?" She could only see random lights flashing by from her current position. They weren't on the road long yet, but since she had no idea where they were before, that didn't help much in figuring out their current location, or the direction they were headed.

Owen had decided, after talking it over extensively with himself, that they had to leave the house. He was a cop's kid too, after all, and he knew about tracing calls. So he had grabbed her and practically threw her in his car. Did he even know where he was going? Andy wondered if he had thought that far ahead.

"We need to get as far away as possible, before they trace the call you made."

"And then what?" _Then we'll live happily ever after and hold hands while we watch the sunset? Is that how you see it?_

Owen shrugged and swiftly glanced back at her. "We'll see. Just give me some time."

"Owen, what are you going to do if they find us?" If her precinct wasn't going to, maybe the traffic police would. Andy had noticed he still had an affinity for driving very fast.

"That's why I have this." He rummaged through the glove box and pulled out a black-and silver gun (looked like a Smith and Wesson, 9mm?), which he triumphantly held in the air for her to see.

_This is not going to end well. _She wanted to stay positive, but how else could it all turn out? It was becoming clear he wasn't going to let her go, ever; he'd probably shoot her before it would come to that.

_Sam, what should I do? _Andy had gotten so adjusted to following his lead, to him always knowing what to do or to say, that she felt utterly lost without him now.

But he was out there, looking for her, and she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't give up on her. And if he didn't, how could she? She owed it to him to keep fighting, instead of laying here feeling sorry for herself, and giving up.

Andy tried to sit up straight again, which was quite the accomplishment with bound hands and feet, not to mention it shot pain squirts all over her body. If Owen was going to make do on his threat on putting her in the trunk, he had to stop the car first, and she had the idea he didn't want to do that, in fear of losing their head start.

No reaction from Owen as she sat up and leaned against the side of the car. Now she at least had a decent view.

Apparent nervousness was streaming of him, as he peered at the signs at the side of the road. Was he lost maybe? Andy resisted the urge to ask. Men never liked to admit they were lost anyway, and this particular petty guy she had no interest in getting mad again.

"Damn!" Owen placed the gun on his lap and hit the brakes so unexpectedly that Andy bumped her head against the seat in front of her, unable to shield herself with her arms.

"Ouch! What?" He had gone rigid, ignoring her while he stared ahead of him. She tried to look past the seat, to see what had shocked him. In the distance Andy could see flashing lights in the familiar red- and blue colors, breaking the darkness. A road block? A traffic check? A rush of anticipation rushed through her as she fumbled around for the door handle. Locked. Well, they were close now anyway. _They must be here for me. No escape for Owen anymore. I'll be free soon._

A car swerved passed them, honking heavily and pulling Owen out of his initial shock.

He turned around, roughly shoving her down in the back seat again. "Stay down!" He accelerated the car again and made a U-turn, speeding away from the lights. Those more than welcome, life-saving lights.

"What are you going to do?" _Please turn the car around, and end this right here and now._

Owen sighed heavily. His hand were shaking, his voice unsteady. "I think I saw a dirt road leading up a while back."

* * *

While Sam and the other officers were searching the house, it was easy to control his train of thought, to stay in automated cop mode. He had searched so many houses in his career at the force, he knew what to do and how to control the situation while staying focused. When they had not found any trace of Andy and Owen, he began to hope they would be at the next house. But then they called it in over the radio: _'Blood found in upstairs bedroom, signs of struggle.'_

His heart sank as he rushed up the stairs. Her blood, his, both? How much blood? How badly would Andy be hurt? If he had killed her, he would have left her there, right?

He stared at the red stained spot on the carpet of the small room. It wasn't a huge amount, so probably from a fight and not from gun or knife wounds, but blood nonetheless.

He tried to compose himself and scanned the rest of the room, trying to picture what had happened here. A pile of wood that used to be a chair was against the wall opposite from a classical bed. He didn't even want to speculate why the sheets were creased.

That loud crack he heard when he had her on the phone, was that the chair breaking down? Andy must have been on the floor, right here, and then he hit her while she called Sam's name...

And what had he done to protect her? She was left to fight her own battle, while he was one step behind, again. This morning in her apartment he had been too late, this evening here exactly the same. A lot of good he did her. Maybe she should have called someone else, maybe then she would have stood a chance. But she had called _him_, she had put all her trust and hope in him, and he repaid her for her trust by failing her. How would he be able to live with himself if anything happened to her?

Sam had to get out of here, out of this house. He felt he couldn't breathe properly here. He ran down the stairs, brushed past his colleagues without a word. He had to hit something, and if anyone would get in his way, he was not accountable for the consequences. Luckily, he made it out the back, where he found a big trash container would make a perfect victim. He pounded and kicked against it uncontrollably until the numbness he felt subsided, replaced by a warming and welcome pain in his extremities. Panting, he supported his head on his arms while leaning against the now dented container, trying to control his breath. He found he could think clearly again.

"Feeling better?" Oliver was standing in the doorway, watching him patiently.

Sam just shrugged, he knew Oliver understood.

"Any new leads?" Oliver was looking at him with his concerned father-face, so Sam tried to steer him back to the current situation before he would say something to console him.

Oliver shook his head. "Sorry buddy, nothing yet. The house is owned by a family from Washington, DC, they come up a few weekends a year. We're trying to establish if there's any relation to Brooks."

"He could have just randomly heard them talking about it when he lived there", Sam grunted back. It didn't matter anyway; Owen and Andy were clearly not coming back here.

"Sammy, when is the last time you sat down for a minute? Did you even eat something since this morning?"

Sam vacantly stared back at him. Food? A foreign concept right now. How could he even think about sitting down and eat when that creep still had Andy?

"I'm sure we'll find her soon."

Sam bit his lip and swallowed deep. "You don't know that."

Even always- the optimist Oliver had no response to that. They stood there motionless, neither of them wanting to speak.

"Officer Swarek? Officer Shaw?" Peck walked towards them, looking curiously from one to the other. "Nash called. They talked to Tommy McNally's neighbors; one of them spotted a dark SUV parked in the street for a couple of days last week. No sightings as of two days. And Diaz got hold of the aunt, who had a neighbor check the garage, she left it at the Brooks residence while she fixed up the house to sell. Car was gone."

"Now we know what to look or, at least. Thank you, Peck." Oliver was sounding like he was promising a young child a long-awaited ice cream, looking up hopefully at Sam.

"Let's make sure everybody on the road gets a description of the car and Owen. They couldn't have gone far, and there are not that many roads out here."

If Owen would take one of the main roads out, he would not get passed them: they had to count on him not knowing the back roads that led deeper into the woods.

Traffic checks were set up in a perimeter around the house Owen had taken Andy to, and the roads were littered with police cruisers. Surely they should find them any minute now. Sam had joined the search, driving around was at least doing something. He tried not to think about what would happen if the white-shirts decided enough was enough, and they would stop the search. What could he do then? Going home and resting from shift was not even thinkable. Going for a drink? Not unless he could chuck the whole bottle at once and pass out in the spot.

But what if another day arrived and they still would have found nothing? And another? Would he be able to go back to work, doing the same thing he had done for years, or would he be haunted by losing his rookie, his Andy forever? If they would never find her, he could never find any satisfaction in work again. This was not a scar that could heal. How could he ever even think about protecting anyone again, if he could not even protect his own partner, the one who was permanently edged in his heart?

After the attack on his sister Sarah all those years ago, he had vowed never to let anything happen to the people he loved ever again. Though he was only a little boy then, unable to do anything of substance, he had felt responsible for her, just as she did for him. Growing up, she had been the only constant in his life. Without her, everything would have turned out different: he could have just as easily turned out on the other side of the law, like most of his friends around him.

Instead, he chose the side that was harder to follow, the side that lost most of the battles. He could not save everyone (not everyone even wanted to be saved), but the ones that he could help were worth it.

And not to mention, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Cruising around the streets, getting bad guys and help keeping the city save. And later on even risking his life in undercover operations, escaping his life, changing his whole personality to get even the worst scum behind bars. He was good at it; he loved it. At least, he used to.

Voices chattering on the radio broke his concentration; Sam quickly turned the noise up. A woman had complained at one of the traffic stops about a black SUV stopping in the middle of the road, just before the stop. Said SUV never arrived there.

The road wasn't too far from his current position. They had to be at one of the smaller roads that crossed it. Would this finally be his lucky break?

Sam never drove this fast before.

* * *

Andy had given up trying to sit straight again. The bumpy road was getting noticeably worse, the farther they went. Owen had come to a dead end and was forced to turn back at least twice. Now they appeared to be heading deeper into the woods, farther and farther away from the people that were looking for them. At least, that was what Andy hoped. Maybe it had been a random traffic check, and nobody was looking for them anymore. Maybe they had given up already. And if they haven't, they would do so soon.

Her dad would never recover if she stayed lost. He would take up the bottle again, having lost the last family member he had left. He would probably drink himself to death, and it would be her fault.

She tried to picture her friends, sitting at a table at the Penny, reminiscing about the rookie that was lost. '_Do you remember when she blew Swarek's undercover op. on her first day?' _ Would they toast to her, use her as yet another cautionary tale at the academy?

Sam would get a new rookie to ride with. Would he eventually get into the same routine with someone else? Gail would surely volunteer, she had always liked Sam. But was she not just hinting on that to push Andy and Sam together? She always acted so cold, but sometimes she saw more than everybody else. Andy would never say it out loud, but she understood Gail better than most seemed to.

Maybe all cop-kids were connected somehow. It was, after all, what had connected her to Owen, all those years ago.

The man she had loved in the past (or thought she had loved, she wasn't that sure anymore), and who was now her kidnapper, was totally unresponsive. He kept his eyes straight on the road, now and then cursing under his breath or mumbling something inaudible. His gun was still on his lap. The last time she had tried to break through to him, he had pointed it at her and told her in no uncertain terms to shut up.

What was there to say, anyway? He was clearly unstable and anything but clear-headed. Her best weapon was no good here, and the partner who should be there to make up for the other two percent talking wouldn't cover probably had no idea where they were.

The car came to a sudden stop. Cursing loudly, Owen jumped out. Andy took the chance to sit up again. In the lights of the SUV, she could see him standing over a fallen tree log in the middle of the road, kicking it furiously. A quick glance backwards revealed nothing but darkness; it was idle hope to think about anyone taking a small dirt road leading into the forest at night.

She could make a run for it. If she could get on the front seat, go through the open car door, she could run for the cover of the trees. Maybe he wouldn't find her if she ran hard enough. But then she had to get loose of her foot restraints first.

Andy made sure Owen was still distracted on kicking and pulling at the fallen tree to no avail, and started twisting her body like a belly dancer to get hold of the rope around her feet. This would have been a very funny situation, had it not been for her arm hurting a lot already without moving it, and her hands almost numb from the cuffs behind her back. She managed to get hold of the rope and had just started untangling it when the door opened with a bang and she froze up. Owen was standing next to her, looking over her. He was holding the gun in one hand, and a knife in the other. His face was blank, distant, and colder than ever. Andy backed away from him as bent over her.

"Looks like we're going to have to walk. If you try anything, I'm going to have to shoot you", he said with a unmistakably serious voice, as he cut the rope from her feet with one snap of the knife.

They had walked for what seemed like half an hour on the small path, only lit by the sparse light of the moon. Andy on front, Owen holding her by the still normal feeling arm while griping his gun in a steady hold.

"What's that?" Owen jerked her back, closer to him, and looked around.

"What?" Andy was too busy building up courage to make a run for it to listen to anything. If she could get a head start somehow… Maybe she should kick him where it hurt the most, disable him long enough to get as far away as possible.

"There's people behind us."

Andy turned to look at Owen. She heard nothing. Was it pure paranoia? She just started to say something to him, getting him moving again and maybe releasing his grip a little, when she heard… _Something. _Was he pulling her into his delusion? Woods could do strange things to people, especially late at night.

"Who's there?" Owen's voice seemed to pierce through the dark. He increased his hold on her, pulling her to his chest and pointing the gun at her.

She could now definitely hear people, coming closer in the darkness. Even closer, shouting.

A powerful current swept through her as she recognized the voice that was approaching. If she could pinch herself in her present position, she would.

"Police! Let her go." Andy felt like laughing and crying at the same time. No threat from Owen could stop her from yelling back.

"Sam? I'm here!"


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm totally buzzing over the news that Rookie Blue has been renewed for a fourth season! So many things I still want to see happening to our rookies, not to mention our favorite couple._

_But first we can (hopefully) enjoy some delightful love scenes from season three._

_Thank you for (still) reading and reviewing!_

* * *

Sam could feel his heartbeat rapidly increasing when he saw her. He knew he had to take it slow and controlled, but all he wanted was to run to her, pull her from Owen's grip, and hold her close forever. He had to stay in full cop-mode, instead of drifting to hopelessly- in love mode.

Guns aimed forward, he shot a quick glance over to Oliver, and they approached side by side, visibly showing the rest of the team that they had the lead in this.

"Stay away!" Owen eyed the officers approaching one by one. Andy was pinned against his chest, hands behind her back. A shimmer of light reflected of an object he was pressing to Andy's temple. _Damn. He's armed._ Why did it even surprise him? Nothing seemed to go his way today.

He took another step forward, and let his flashlight illuminate them. Andy was looking up at him expectantly with big brown eyes, filled with emotion.

Sam swallowed deep when he saw fresh bruises on her face. He wanted to talk to her, make sure she was okay, but addressing her would surely not help Owen's state of mind right now.

"You're surrounded. Let her go", Oliver said calmly.

He could still hear footsteps coming this way. Soon the little path would be crowded with police.

Another step. He had to get close. He had to get Andy free from Owen's hold somehow so he could get a clear shot.

"I'll shoot her if you come any closer!"

Sam stopped in his tracks. Would he really shoot her? Well, this was clearly his end game. There was no way he would get out here a free man, he had to know that.

"If you put down the weapon and let her go now, no one needs to get hurt."

In unspoken communication, Oliver moved slightly to the right as Sam moved to the left. Owen could not watch them both at the same time.

"I'm not going to let anyone take her from me anymore." It was almost a whisper.

"I'd rather we both die." His eyes twitched from Andy to Oliver. He wasn't looking at Sam, so he took another step sideward as fast as he could; making sure he was properly lit by the multiple flashlights that were streaming across the small paths now as the other officers were taking positions.

Andy's pleading eyes were fixed on his as Owen pressed the gun even tighter to her skin.

_Hang on, _he tried to say wordlessly. _It won't be long now._

Oliver kept trying to reason with Owen, keeping his attention on him, but Sam knew already that there was no way to end this peacefully. Owen Brooks was going to kill his partner, unless they did something right now.

'On three.'Sam mouthed the words as clearly as he could without Owen seeing him, willing her to understand. He tipped his gun downwards slightly. _Down. _

Panic flashed in Andy's eyes as she understood what he meant. She clearly didn't believe she could do this, but he stared her down to submission. _You can do this. You have to do this._

A few moments passed before she seemed to resign herself to the situation. Andy gave a miniscule nod. Owen was screaming at Oliver now, as he shook Andy violently to emphasize his words. This was going nowhere.

Sam wasn't paying attention to the people around him. Time was moving slower as he concentrated only on her eyes, his grip on his gun, and the man holding his rookie.

Mouthing the words silently to her, he started the count:

'One…' _If she dies now, it will all be my fault. If I miss, he'll kill her for sure._

'Two…' _Please Andy, be okay. I got so much left to tell you. I need you close._

'Three.'

Everything was happening at once. Andy kicked Owen as hard as she could and she dropped herself to the floor. Owen yelped as he fired a shot in the air. Sam heard the shots from his own gun before he realized he had really pulled the trigger. People were yelling and running, but Sam couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears. It took a moment to compose himself, like snapping out of a dream.

_Andy. _He scanned the ground before him. Bundles of light were frantically dancing around as everybody moved at the same time, making it hard to make anything distinctive out.

Owen was down and was not moving, his gun was some distance from him. _Fine. Let the others take care of him._

Sam let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding untill now, holstered his gun and made his way to the crouched figure.

* * *

"I got you. I got you." Sam was repeating the words over and over, holding her, touching her face, stroking her hair. Was he trying to assure her or himself? Probably both.

His eyes anxiously flickered over her. How could he have looked so composed just a second ago, and so frenzied the next?

Andy felt completely serene at the moment. She shouldn't be, she knew she should be a mess right now, but Sam was holding her again and everything seemed just right.

She had no idea what was happening around her, but it didn't matter right now. She was safe. It was all over. All she wanted was to be in his arms, and let all her worries drift away. Nothing else mattered.

Their eyes met again, and locked together. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much he needed to know, but it could all wait. This was not the time or place for such a conversation.

Sam was still stroking her gently, as if she was made of glass.

She smiled at him. "You found me."

This appeared to calm him a bit. He chuckled and gave her a heartfelt smile back, which lit up his eyes. "Of course I did."

"You had me worried there for a second." Her smile broadened until it hurt her face. She hadn't realized how much she had missed those dimples.

The magic of the moment snapped when Oliver crouched down beside them, his face flashing red.

"How 'you doing McNally?"

"Fine. Would like to get these cuffs off."

Sam seemed to have forgotten about them until now. He backed up a little without letting her go, barking orders. Within moments someone was behind her, fumbling with a key.

"Are you injured? They've cleared the road, the ambulance is on the way."

Andy shook her head, just as the cuffs were opened and her hurt arm was yanked free from its position. "Ouch! Well, maybe just the arm." She nervously grinned at Sam, who was back to looking worried again, softly examining her arm.

Suddenly remembering, she turned to see what was happening behind them, but Oliver and Sam wouldn't have it.

"What happened?" It had all gone so fast. When she had understood what Sam asked of her, she didn't want to do it. It was madness, making any sudden movements around someone who was holding you at gunpoint.

But when it became clear to her Owen was not going to let Oliver talk him down, there was no real choice, was there? If anyone had tried to shoot Owen, he would have shot her too. And Sam seemed so sure. He always knew what to do, and she trusted him every time before this, so why not now? Especially now. What would have happened if Sam hadn't been there? _Then I would be dead._

But it did work. She had thrown every ounce of strength she had left in the kick, and then there were the shots. Two quick bangs, and another, closer. Had Owen fired too? _He could have hit Sam…_

"Don't look. He's… He is dead." Owen, dead? Andy took a moment to think about how she felt about this. Nothing, no happiness, no sadness either. Maybe it would all sink in later, but she wondered if she would ever feel any remorse about it. She pushed the thoughts back; she certainly had spent enough time thinking about Owen.

Oliver was called away by Noelle; they exchanged words while they kept glancing at her and Sam. In fact, everyone around kept staring at her. Some people she knew, some she had never seen before. Another division, perhaps?

She must look like hell; dirty clothes, un-brushed hair, and her face probably looked puffed, too.

Sam didn't seem to care about her appearance. He was holding her as if she would disappear if he let her go for just one second. Well, she was fine with that. She never minded him holding her, but she was suddenly very aware of how she must look.

She made a futile attempt to stand up, only to sink back into Sam's arms. Why was she so tired and weak all of the sudden? All the stress of the day was weighing in at her at once, most likely.

"Maybe you should wait for the paramedics." His voice sounded unusually raspy. He bit his lip as he tried to force out an uneasy smile.

"I'm fine." _Because you saved me. Because you're always there when I need you._

"You will be."

The ride to the hospital was a big blur to Andy. All she knew was that Sam was with her the whole drive, holding her hand.

When he was ordered out of the hospital room so they could examine her, he looked ready to fight but eventually obliged after checking with her first.

She let the doctors and nurses crawl over her, stick her with needles. She answered their questions the best she could. They pulled at her arm while she fought her tears.

Then there was the sweet release of the pain medication.

Just before she dozed off, her father came in, tears streaming down his face. Andy tried to console him, but she couldn't find the right words in this hazy state, so she settled to grin at him and let him do all the talking until she slowly drifted away.

* * *

Frank had ordered Sam out of the hospital to go clear the shooting. Ordered him. He had no real choice since he was going to have to do this eventually. Andy was out cold for the night, and she was going to be alright (he had to keep repeating that to himself for some reason). He'd much rather be with her to make sure, but at least after this they would have no excuse to keep him from her.

The interview took forever. 'Did you mean to shoot him?' _Well, yeah. He kidnapped my partner, and he was holding a gun to her head._

There was fortunately no lack of witnesses to see that the shooting had been justified. And, it helped that Owen had clearly been a crazy son of a bitch. Sam had no doubt on his mind this would be resolved rapidly.

It was after midnight when Sam arrived at the hospital. When he had left, the waiting rooms had been filled with coppers eagerly awaiting news, but now most of them were at the Penny, toasting to Andy's safe return. No one would be going home on a normal time today. An experience like this was best shared with the people who understood best.

The hospital halls were back to their creeping silent self. As always when he was in a hospital, Sam strongly detested the smell that was hanging all over. That unique smell of disinfectants and despair rubbed him a wrong way.

The nurse was rummaging through a stack of papers when he approached the desk. He tried out his best smile on her when he asked her about Andy's condition.

She really couldn't give any information, she said as she chuckled at him. It took little more convincing and deep looks, but he found out Andy had a few fractures in her left arm (from shielding her face from Owen's blows), a cracked rib (he would kill him all over, if he could), and a few minor scratches and bruises that would heal nicely. She had a concussion, too, so they would have to wake her every three hours to check if she was clear.

"Her friend is still in with her", the nurse said as she hung over the desk to get even closer to him.

"Traci Nash?" The nurse nodded, he made sure to thank her before he positioned himself on a chair beside her door, cradling his face in his hands. He wanted nothing more than to go in, see her, but he wanted to be alone with her. And he didn't want to interrupt Nash, since she had every right to check on her friend in privacy.

Sam wasn't at all surprised that Jerry had brought him coffee when he came in a while later. Jerry knocked on the door and sat down. He was wise enough not to try starting a conversation with him, as Sam was in no mood for that.

Together they waited silently until Nash came out, rubbing her eyes. With a dried out voice, she greeted them and eagerly took Jerry's outstretched hands. Andy was still asleep, she told him before Jerry took her home.

Sam lingered in the doorway before finally going in. She looked so small… So fragile. He put his coffee on the table next to her bed and leaned over her. Her arm was in a pure white cast. How long would it take to be filled with scribbles from the department?

She was on an IV (fluids), and machines were monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure.

Barely touching her, he traced the black and blue spots on her face and arms. They looked even worse than he had been able to see in the dim light in the woods, earlier this evening.

He didn't dare to look any lower than her neck, but he was sure this wasn't all of it. Anger rose in him again until he made himself remember that the culprit was already dead. Shot twice in the head, by him.

He fixed a loose tread of her hair, briefly encircling it round his finger before tucking it behind her ears.

Positioning the chair even closer to the bed before he sat in it, he took hold of her hand. At least it was warm now. She had been so cold then…

Sam sank his head on the bed, careful not to wake her. "I'm sorry McNally. I'm sorry."

Sam watched her chest go up and down steadily.

She was alive, she was here and she was going to be okay. But he had almost lost her forever, almost blew every chance he might have had with her.

And who knew if the worst damage she had suffered wasn't emotional? She was strong, but only she and the dead guy in the morgue knew exactly what had transpired in the time she had been missing. What if he had raped her? He should have asked if they had checked for that. But would he want to know? What could he do to help her?

Would she even want to see him when she woke?

Too much questions to answer. He would cross those bridges when he came to it. The important thing now was that she was safe, and he was with her. And he wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

_Okay, I know Sandy hospital scenes have been written by a lot of other people (and much better at that), but I just couldn't resist. Andy is safe now, but Sam and Andy still need to talk, don't you think? So, not finished just yet!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry for waiting so long to update again, got pretty busy last week. I'll try to be quicker next time._

_This turned out to be a pretty slow chapter, but I hope after all the action in the previous chapter, you'll forgive me._

* * *

Andy woke with a shock, not remembering where she was. Did Owen still have her? Was she still bound? She lifted up her arms. There were tubes in the one, the other was in a cast, but she could move them somewhat freely. _Hospital_. The memories of the previous night came rushing back in full force. The woods, the ambulance, her father… Did she remember seeing Traci's face correctly or had she dreamed that? And Sam. Sam had been there, and then he was not. But hadn't she heard his voice beside her late last night?

Her head was still groggy as she turned her head slowly to survey the rest of the room.

Only then did she notice the sleeping figure slumping in the chair next to her bed. A warm feeling went through her. He was here, with her.

Sam looked a little scruffier than usual; he had the unshaven look he normally reserved for UC-operations (she usually liked well-shaven guys, but she had to admit it had an enticing appeal). He had changed out of his uniform and was wearing a blue jeans and bright red shirt that really showed off his muscular abdomen and shoulders. He was drawing deep, even breaths.

His position on the chair looked in no way comfortable. His head was resting on the side of the chair headboard, while his legs were thrown over the side, barely hanging on and sticking out. Andy wondered if the nurses were already taking turns peaking in the room; Sam looked so darn cute propped in this undersize chair.

Had he been here all night? Andy could vaguely remember waking up a few times to the sound of the nurse, and she had really thought Sam was there too, though she couldn't be sure anymore.

He probably didn't get much sleep, either. What had she put him through yesterday?

After she had lied to him, kept things from him, he had still done everything in his power to find her and save her.

She could still hear the shots imploding right next to her, killing Owen.

A spooky realization dawned on her. _Oh God. He killed for me. How can I ever make this up to him?_

No way to make up for something like this. This was not like one of her other mistakes, where she would screw up and her TO would come to the rescue. _Oh wait_. _Actually, it was exactly like that_. She had made the mistake of not seeing the seriousness of the situation with Owen, and he had paid for that.

And not only Sam, she couldn't even count all the officers she had seen in the woods last night. All there at night, for her, to save her from a crazy ex. How many people were on her case yesterday? How many hours were taken up by the search for one of their own? Her friends must have been worried sick. And now everybody knew the whole story of Andy McNally. How could she ever look any of them in the eyes again?

Suddenly very uneasy just lying here, Andy tried to sit up, only to get a shot of pain through her chest. She tried to bite the pain as to not wake Sam, but she let out a sharp whimper when she fell back flat in the hospital bed.

It had been enough. She heard Sam mumble something before snapping his eyes open, suddenly wide awake.

He had a panicked look on his face for a second, eyes wide open, before turning them to her and finding her looking back at him. Within seconds, he was out of the chair and standing next to her.

"Careful, you have a cracked rib." He supported her and stuffed her pillow against her so she could sit up, his hand lingering on her back a little too long.

"You okay?" He gave her a nervous smile while unconsciously stretching his back.

"Yeah." Not really true, her body was aching in more places she could count, but considering how it all could have gone, she really was okay.

Sam didn't seem to believe her, but he just nodded.

"Have you been here all night?" Andy asked just to say anything.

"Pretty much. Are you in pain? I can call…" He pointed to the door, but Andy shook her head.

"I think I've had enough drugs for a while." This was not the first time she woke up from a drug-infused haze, though waking up next to Sam was definitely better than waking up with Owen.

His smile disappeared when he remembered, too. She shouldn't have said that. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but she wasn't really ready to start talking about Owen just yet.

"Was my dad here?"

"When we brought you in last night. He'll be here again soon."

"And Traci?" She frowned remembering the image of her best friend last night. Not remembering everything you did or saw was not a pleasant experience, especially not for a cop trained in documenting every little detail.

"Yeah, she was here. Everybody from 15th was here."

Everybody? Andy failed trying to picture the halls of the hospital, filled with uniforms, all there worried for her. The other rookies were her friends, so that was to be expected. Had her staff sergeant been there? The TO's? The detectives? Luke? A sadistic side of her enjoyed the thought of Luke worrying about her, blaming himself for her disappearance for a second, before dismissing it. She had seen the signs of damage it had done him not solving the Zoe Martinelli case for so long, murdered rookie at 15th before Andy started working there, she couldn't wish that on anyone. He had never talked about it to her, but she knew the case had stuck with him.

"Do you remember what happened in the woods?" Sam crunched his face. Okay, so he wanted to talk.

Andy just nodded. She could still smell the wildlife, the plants, and then the distinct smell of gunpowder and something coppery: blood. She could still hear the faint cries of the animals in the dark accompanying their shuffled steps on the path. She could almost feel Owen's desperation mixing with her own, his hands gripping her, the cold steel of the gun in her face… _Don't go there. _

Andy could feel the overwhelming tears prickling already.

"It got pretty hairy out there." Why did his voice have to sound so damn sympathetic?

"Yeah," she answered with a way too faint voice.

"How are you feeling?" He undoubtedly wasn't referring to her physical state. Sam probably knew more about her ailments than she did.

She pondered for a minute, trying to express herself clearly, but how could she explain the turmoil she was feeling without bursting into tears in front of him? She couldn't do that; she had shown way too much weakness already.

"I feel… Sorry."

He looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

Andy looked down. "Well, for starters, not telling you the minute he showed up at my doorstep."

He pondered that for a moment. Not what he was expecting.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I knew something was up and I just let it go."

"Because I asked you to, remember?"

He made a noise that sounded almost like a growl. "Shouldn't have let you get away with that."

"There was nothing you could do. I should have done something about it right away." _The minute I saw him in the bar, maybe. I could have stopped everything right there and then._

"You couldn't have known he'd come after you like that."

"Actually, I could. He had done it before, and I did nothing to stop him then, either." Did he even know about that? About the past she had with Owen? How she had brought all this onto herself?

"You were just a kid then, too young to do something yourself." Okay, he knew. From her father, maybe? It had to be, she had never told anyone else about Owen, not even her best friend. Oh, she would probably have to answer to Traci later; she would be upset Andy had kept this from her.

"I'm not that young anymore." And still, when Owen forced himself back into her life, she had just ignored it and wished it away, just like the teenager she once was. Not like the strong, assertive cop she ought to be.

"McNally, listen to me. It's not your fault he was crazy. You did nothing to cause that." He paused briefly to emphasize his words.

"And you're still pretty young."

"Compared to you, maybe." Andy suppressed a smirk. He narrowed his eyes at her before giving her a full smile, complete with dimples and spark in his eyes. The mood was successfully lifted.

He told her about the rest of her injuries and helped her drink some water while they joked around a little, deliberately keeping the conversation light.

* * *

Sam was extremely happy, and extremely miserable. He had Andy back in one piece (sorta), but now she had gone through hell and he still couldn't show her how he really felt about her. Was he being self-absorbed? Maybe. In the absence of any gods to believe in, he had vowed to himself he would stop being so chicken and try; really try to make Andy his own, if he could only get her back safe first.

But now she had all this to process, and he could hardly sweep in and try to seduce her right now, could he? He and Andy had the worst possible timing. Could that be a sign? No, he reminded himself, he didn't believe in signs; that was Andy's thing.

Damn, she really had successfully rubbed that superstitious thing of on him, with her daily unsolicited read of the horoscope in the cruiser, and all that mumbo-jumbo.

She did something to him he couldn't control anymore, and he hated and loved it at the same time. He hated being out of control, but she awoke feelings in him he never knew he had.

Maybe they were just wrong for each other. Maybe he should give up, keep his mouth shut. But he had tried that. Being around her all day without being able to touch her, every day, was a torture he wouldn't have given up for the world, but it was torture nonetheless.

This had to stop. Either she laughed at him and dismissed him, or she was willing to try to be with him. He had no idea how exactly they should proceed then, but he would try his best for her.

And if she was not, well, he had gotten over many women in his life, maybe he would get over her eventually if he could avoid her for a while. Boyd had offered him a new undercover job, which would be a perfect escape.

But how could he lay all this on her now, when she was, even though she would deny it, clearly traumatized by what happened to her. How could he even be so selfish to think about all this while she was still recovering in the hospital?

They were laughing when the nurse had come in, scolding them half-heartedly for not calling her in sooner. After the doctor had come to check her out, the visitors started pouring in. Frank must have had a hard time arranging the schedule today, with everyone wanting to see Andy.

Sam had just let Diaz en Epstein through when Tommy McNally arrived. He looked tired, but happy and calm. No signs of alcohol consumption. It was a good sign for his sobriety that he didn't start drinking after an experience like this.

Andy would be very pleased about that, if she got a chance to think about it.

She would be covered for a while, so he took the time to refresh himself and check out the cafeteria for some food. Though it was barely edible, his empty stomach was very pleased.

He called Frank to make sure he wasn't expecting him at work today for anything. He would be stuck riding a desk for a while until the shooting cleared anyway, and paperwork could surely wait.

Wanting to give Andy a little more time with her visitors, he went outside for a while to breathe in some fresh air and to stretch his cramped muscles. Sleeping in a chair was no picnic. He had slept in some crappy beds in his life, but this one topped it. Plus, he woke up every time Andy stirred or mumbled something in her sleep, or when the nurse came to wake her up. She was barely conscious then, answering the nurse's questions distantly and falling back into slumber. Sam wasn't even sure she had noticed him being there.

It was worth it though; seeing her chest rise up, her steady heartbeat displayed on the monitor, being able to touch her hand and face as making sure she was really still there. He hadn't budged when the nurse had told him to leave, just made perfectly and unmistakably clear that wasn't happening. He was too afraid to wake up somewhere alone and find her still gone.

When Sam returned to Andy's room, his mood dropped. Jerry went to meet him half-way, anticipating trouble. Peck was at Andy's door, chatting lively with Callaghan. _Oh, Great. _What was he doing here?

"Sammy, good to see you." _Yeah, right. _"We're here to take McNally's statement. I need yours, too. Do you want to come in later, or do you want to do it here?"

Peck snickered when she saw the look Callaghan was throwing Sam.

"What's he doing here?"

Jerry sighed. "He came with me. He just wants to see she's okay, that's all."

"I don't think McNally wants to see him."

Callaghan strode towards them, Peck following a little behind in his footsteps. She didn't want to miss any of the action, apparently.

"Swarek," Callaghan greeted him stiffly.

"Detective." Sam put on his broadest fake smile.

"Ready to go in?" Callaghan directed to Jerry, who was obviously feeling very awkward.

"I think detective Barber can handle it." Andy had been through enough without having to see his face. Sam still felt remorse he didn't kick his ass after he had cheated on her.

Jerry threw his hands in the air, signaling he had no interest getting in the middle of this.

"You can't keep me from seeing her." Callaghan stepped closer.

Sam stared at him straight in the eye, unmoving with a grin on his face.

"Is that so?" Neither of them blinked until Callaghan finally took a step back.

"Fine. I'll come back later." _The hell you will._ He trailed out of the hallway, followed by Peck. That oughtta be a fun trip back to the station.

* * *

_Just want to let you know, just in case; I really don't dislike Luke. If he stays away from Andy and Sam, I'm fine having him around. But since I'm writing this story from their perspective right after Luke cheated on Andy, I can't really be that nice about him._


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter nine already! Never thought this story would turn out to be so long. I just started with the idea of Andy showing up to work with a bruise and how Sam would react to that, and kinda took it from there._

_Thank you for hanging on so long, and thanks again for all the kind reviews._

_I think I'll write one more chapter after this, but I won't know for sure until I've written it down._

* * *

Andy was tired. She had put on her happy face when the visitors started coming, and kept coming. Everybody had been so worried, and so glad to see her. They filled her in on how they had found her.

Nobody blamed her, they said. Traci didn't even comment on keeping Owen a secret from her. Gail never even made a single bitchy remark. Only Noelle had eyed her suspiciously for a second as she said how glad she was everything 'worked out'.

Shaw showed up with a big box of chocolates (though half the box had disappeared in his own stomach by the time he left), and had been so relieved to see her doing fine it endeared her.

But Andy couldn't be happy about seeing everybody. She felt stupid, sore, and ashamed. It wasn't enough that everyone knew the ins- and outs of her failed relationship with Luke, now they knew intimately about her other relationship mess, too.

She looked to her side, where Sam was flipping through an ancient catalog while she obediently finished her meal and some Jell-O. He had gone away for a while when the people started coming in, but came back as soon as she was alone again. Did he even leave the hospital? He was still wearing the same outfit, so he probably hadn't gone home. Why wasn't he going home to rest?

Andy had no idea how to tell him he could go if he wanted without him taking offense, so she stayed silent. Despite feeling guilty about keeping him here, she liked having him close. He knew when to stay silent, and when to say the right thing.

Dov had told her (with genuine admiration in his voice) about Sam's tenacity in her 'case', after which he continued to elaborate on his own key role in the operation.

Traci was less subtle, and told her all about Sam's near breakdown after her phone call, hinting heavily on its meaning.

What did it mean? Was it just his sense of responsibility that had made him act that way, or something more? Why couldn't he just tell her what it all means?

"McNally." His tone indicated it wasn't the first time he spoke. "You awake? I asked you what the doctor said."

"If nothing changes, I get out tomorrow. Will be a while before I can get back to full duty, though." She had already pictured her first shift back a few times: everybody would be staring, talking about her. Well, she could handle it. She'd straighten her back and act normal. She had experience in that area.

"Where are you going to stay?"

"Home."

Sam exhaled sharply. "You can't go back there, it's not safe. Plus, you don't have a front door anymore."

She hadn't thought about that. She had to get that fixed, fast.

"You can stay with me." He shifted his eyes away from her. "I got a spare room."

Tempting. But she couldn't lean on him again, and she had to pick up her normal life as soon as possible. And, maybe even more importantly, let him.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. I'll get the door fixed."

Sam shrugged his shoulders, but didn't quite succeed in making it look indifferent. Why was it so important to him that she stayed with him? Wasn't he sick of her already?

"When are you due back on shift?" Andy tried to steer the conversation to safer topics.

"Can't get back on active duty before the shooting clears officially," he informed her dryly.

"Oh." Images of the night before flashed through her head.

"Why, you trying to get rid of me?"

"No." How did he feel about taking a life? It wasn't the first time, but it still had to have had some impact.

"How do you feel about Owen being dead?"

Though question. How did she feel about it? Very conflicted, to say the least.

"I'm sorry you had to shoot him, but I think there was no other way. I'm sorry for the life he had, to make him be this way."

Sam swallowed hard. "Did you love him?"

"I thought I did, once. But not after I saw the real him, I guess. How do you feel about shooting him?"

He shrugged. "Had to be done." His gaze lingered on her. "He hurt you, and he was going to kill you."

"Yeah," she answered softly.

Sam was nervously tapping his fingers on the magazine on his lap, obviously waiting to ask another question.

"Did he…" he clearly struggled with his words, "…touch you?"

It took a moment to figure out what he meant. Did he touch her? Well, she was in the hospital because of him. Didn't Sam see the bruises and the cast? _Oh._

Andy shook her head. "No." _At least not while I was awake. _

He held her gaze for a moment, seeking the truth in her words, until he noticeably relaxed.

"Good."

_The trees were closing in on her. The path had disappeared a while back, and the wild undergrowth was hurting her feet. Where were her shoes? She felt like she had been running for ages now, without end. Was she running in circles?_

_Owen was still chasing her. She couldn't hear anything but her own shaky breath, but she felt it. He was only getting closer, probably watching her right now, and waiting for his moment._

_If only she could reach the end of the woods and see the sky again, everything would be alright. She would be found. But there was no end, and no one was going to find her. She was going to die here, in the dark. _

_He knew it, and she could feel it, too. His anger and anticipation was radiating of him._

_What had she done to deserve this? What had she done that had been so wrong? Andy had tried to be a good person, a good daughter and friend, a good cop, but now she had failed. Maybe her mom had been right to leave her when she did. Had there always been something wrong with her, was that why people kept hurting her, and eventually left her?_

_A tree branch cracked, near her. She turned around to the sound, but it was suddenly too dark to see. He was here. This was the end for her, no escape possible._

_The next thing she knew she was on the ground, and he was on top of her smothering her with his weight, strangling her._

_This was not how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be able to fight back. That was who she was, wasn't it? No matter how dire the situation got, she would get through everything if she just fought back hard enough and let nobody see what affected her. But not this time, this time would be the last._

_Her breath was taken away. _

_She had been here before. The prisoner she let escape, the serial killer in the storage locker. She had been saved, then, but not now. Nobody was coming. He would be the last person she'd ever see._

_His face looked very wrong; large gaping holes started forming rapidly, expanding while bleeding. His voice sounded crooked, almost inhuman. Was it even Owen anymore? "I'm sorry. I love you."_

Her own bed, her own sheets. She was home. Owen was dead, and she was safe now. Thank god Traci had left the little light on her nightstand on, because seeing her own familiar things around her definitely helped. Way better than waking up in the hospital. But, of course, Sam had been there, and that had been oddly comforting. But now she had to cope on her own. She had deliberately refused his offers for a place to stay or a ride home. He had done enough for her.

With her heart still racing and shallow breath, Andy reluctantly escaped the warm embrace of the covers, grabbing her new set of keys from the nightstand. She suddenly felt the urge to check her door.

Traci had put her to bed before she left and had promised to lock up, but did she get all the locks? It was silly, she knew that, but once the idea popped in her head she couldn't shake it.

The sturdy new door had magically been there when she arrived home, complete with multiple locking mechanisms.

She assumed the building manager had taken care of it, but Traci told her Sam had given her the keys before she went to bring Andy home, with no further explanation as to where it came from.

Andy stumbled to her living room and immediately checked her locks. Her only useable hand was still a bit sore from the cuffs, and the skin underneath the cast was itching and felt all crumbled up, but she managed to go through them all in no time.

A sudden creaky sound behind her sent a shiver through her spine. Not again. Why didn't she check out the room before running to the door? So stupid. What kind of cop was she?

She backed against the door (no time to unlock it and get out), facing her attacker. She could almost feel the hands around her neck from her dream. _No more, please_. There was no strength left in her to fight back.

"McNally?" His soothing and unexpected voice broke something in her. He got up from her couch, looking at her inquisitively.

Andy couldn't hold back the emotion turmoil any longer. Too much fear, too much desperation, it all came out at once.

Tears were already falling down her cheeks as she clumsily sought support on the wall, sliding down along it to her knees.

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

* * *

Sam rushed towards her. _Damn. _The last thing he wanted was to scare her, yet again.

He had tried to go home, tried to respect her wishes. She wanted to do this alone, fine, she had every right to. The last thing she needed was to feel patronized and weak. Andy knew she could call him, day or night.

But after a very refreshing shower and a nice cool beer while watching some sports on TV, he felt he still couldn't relax.

What if she woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to talk? Of course, she could always call, but would she? Wasn't she way too stubborn for that? No matter what she had experienced, she had never been one to ask for help.

And no matter how much times Andy said she was 'fine', he knew she was most definitely not.

Sam couldn't hide that he felt better himself too, if he was around her. He had almost lost her, and it hadn't fully sunk in yet that she was really safe. It was better to be sure. Her neighborhood was not the best (or the worst) part of town, but was the door he put in early this morning secure enough?

After some internal debate, he drove his truck over to her house. She could send him home or let him in, but he had to try.

Andy was already fast asleep in her bedroom and Nash was just leaving when he arrived, but she had let him in with a smile on her face. She didn't seem surprised to see him at all; Nash just commented on the new door and left.

After a quick peek in her room to see if she was still asleep (the cast really popped out admits her colorful bed sheets), he had positioned himself on the couch.

He could certainly use some sleep in a vertical position anyway.

But then Andy had been there in the living room, now crouched against the wall and crying.

"Nash let me in. I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare ya."

She hid her face in her hands while nodding slightly, shaking from her sobs.

"I'm just…" She didn't finish her sentence, and didn't have to. He understood.

Sam hated seeing her like this. He'd rather chase a perp all through the park or be held at gun point then having a woman cry in front of him. It made him feel so darn helpless, not knowing what to do to solve the problem. Especially if he caused it, though he had to admit probably only part of her tears was his fault.

He kneeled in front of her, putting his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it softly.

"It's okay. You'll be okay."

Her sobbing only intensified, so he instinctively pulled her close to his chest, putting his arms around her while her tears formed a wet spot on his shirt.

Nothing he could think of to say right now would make her feel any better, so he just let her cry until the tears would stop coming.

After she had calmed down a bit, he helped her to the couch and got her a glass of water, which she took with a trembling hand.

"Did you fix my door?"

"Yeah, earlier today." As Andy had refused to go home with him or any of her friends he had to do something useful. The shabby door the building manager had put in was just as crappy as the previous one, so he got a new one; he had to make sure she would be secure.

That's what partners do, right? _Right. Partners also come into each other's houses uninvited and fall asleep on their couches, right?_

"Thanks." She sounded deflated.

"Don't mention it." He sat down next to her, though carefully minding sitting not too close, giving her space.

The room fell silent for a moment, while she was lost in her thoughts.

"He would have killed me." She wasn't saying it to him so much as just stating a simple fact.

"He would have killed me if you wouldn't have found me," she said as she looked up with big puffy eyes.

"But I did find you." _I would always find you. At least I would never stop trying._

She didn't wince when he leaned over to wipe a tear from her cheek with his thumb, keeping his hand on her face as their gaze intensified.

Never before did he want to kiss her more, and never before was it so inappropriate to want to do so.

"Thank you, Sam," she spoke almost in a whisper while he rested his forehead against hers. Neither of them spoke again for a long time, being close to each other was enough.

Andy spoke cautiously. "Why are you really here, Sam?"

She had washed up, and now the red circles on her cheek were blending in with her bruises. Since they both had no inclination to go back to sleep any time soon, he was making coffee. She had offered to do it but seeing she only had one functioning arm, he gladly took over.

Her question took him by surprise, and he had to hide his expression from her by quickly spinning back to the machine.

"I… Eh… Didn't think I'd frighten you like that. Sorry."

Sam felt her hand tugging on his arm, rotating him to face her.

"Sam…" He wasn't going to get out of this easy. He chuckled and grinned at her apologetically.

"Just thought you might wanna talk, or needed a shoulder to cry on, or something."

Andy pondered on that for a moment, narrowing her eyes.

"You know I'm not going anywhere, right? I'm not going to vanish as soon as you let me out of your sight."

"I know." Yes, he knew that, consciously, but then there was that nagging feeling in the back of his head.

"Not that I don't appreciate… This. But it's not like I'm going to let you move in so you can watch over me all the time."

"Getting sick of me already?"

Andy laughed. Not a full hearted laugh yet, but it was wonderful to hear that sound again. She opened a cupboard and took two cups out, one by one.

"Not yet. But you can't keep watching over me 24/7. When is the last time you actually laid down in a regular bed?" She raised her eyebrows to question marks.

Sam kept grinning at her, and nodded to the bedroom door.

"Is that an indecent proposal, McNally?" It actually earned him a disapproving look and a full spirited laugh from Andy.


	10. Chapter 10

_Last one! I hope you're not disappointed with my ending. As you may have noticed, I'm much more at ease with writing drama scenes then happy scenes. I wonder if that says something about me…_

_It's a bit longer than usual, but I didn't want to cut it into two pieces._

_I hope you'll enjoy it!_

* * *

Andy was actually in a pretty good mood when she heard her name being called.

For a second, she contemplated slipping into the nearest room, but she had already been seen so that would be futile. _Luke._

She plastered on a fake smile (amazing how good she had gotten at it) before she turned to meet him.

"How are you?"

Very loaded question for her lately. How did her police-appointed psychologist put it? _Coping. _Nothing but a variation on her life motto for the past two years: 'Fake it 'till you make it.'

She was getting better, actually, with the help of her friends (mostly Sam), and slowly she had begun feeling secure again. The nightmares were getting less frequent and scary. The bruises and her ribs had healed. Her cast was almost coming off. And most importantly, though it was tough facing everyone again, she was back at work and nothing could make her happier.

Even the desk duty didn't seem so bad; she loved being back among her colleagues and the familiar surroundings.

Sometimes this building felt more like home then any place she had ever lived in. She grew up here in a way. Her most happy and her most terrible memories were bound to it, and the people working inside. And wasn't that what a home was?

But she wasn't about to explain this to Luke.

"I'm okay. You?"

"I'm good. Snagged a pretty big case, we're setting up a taskforce."

Luke beamed with pride as his eyed fixed on hers.

"I wanted to come by, but I wasn't sure… You'd appreciate it. Did you get my flowers?"

"Yeah, I did. Thank you." Sam had given her a strange look when she had sighed deep before silently depositing the card attached to the flowers in the garbage bin. He had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

She had kept the flowers. Hey, she loved flowers, they brightened the room and it wasn't their fault Luke had bought them, right?

She gave Luke a good look. Was he going to beg forgiveness again?

_Whatever. _Somehow she couldn't even bring herself to be that mad at him anymore.

So he would beg, okay. He was sorry, yeah she got that already. But why let it bother her?

The sharp pain that had accompanied her while seeing Luke before the whole 'thing' had happened (she still hadn't figured out what to call it. Attack? Abduction? It all seemed so unfit to apply to a personal experience) had now gone almost numb.

There was still some anger left, though. Luke had hurt her, humiliated her, lied to her and almost lured her into a marriage based on a lie.

But instead of wishing all kinds of things on him like she had done, Andy found herself wishing he'd just find someone else to focus on, so he would leave her be.

Providing that person cheated on him and broke his heart, of course. And as long as it was _not _Jo.

"I was hoping we could talk some time." Just a little bit of pleading in his voice.

"You know, Luke, I really don't think we have anything more to talk about. Good luck with the taskforce," she tried to say without too much of a bitchy undertone.

Not waiting for his response, Andy strode to the locker room with a genuine smile on her face, actually feeling darn proud.

* * *

Sam had seen Andy talking to Callaghan. Her back was turned to him, but he could see from Callaghan's expression that the topic most definitely wasn't work.

He wrapped up his conversation quickly and got over there just in time to see Andy disappear into the locker room.

Callaghan brushed past him without acknowledging his existence.

Andy didn't need this. She was just back at work; it had to be hard enough for her today without Luke pestering her.

Sam was proud of how Andy was handling everything. After that first night, when she broke down after she found him sleeping on her couch (okay, he possibly could have handled that better, but it all turned out for the best) she had confided in him, though he knew she was holding back some things.

That was okay; as long as she was dealing with it and not denying the after-effects of what she had experienced.

But in true McNally fashion, she was always very good at hiding her emotions.

Sam had stayed with her until he was convinced she'd be okay, and after Frank had told him he really had to get back to work.

Only then had he reluctantly left her in the company of her friends and father, they had managed one way or another that she'd never be alone for long.

He had spent quite a few nights in her place. Andy's couch was remarkably comfortable to sleep on, and she hadn't thrown him out (Oliver had actually had the nerve to ask suggestively if he would have been sleeping on his couch, if he was the one that had been kidnapped).

He still couldn't shake the feeling he had failed in protecting her, and he wanted to do everything he could to make up for it.

Sam slowly pushed the locker room door open, apprehensive of what he would find. Should he have given her some time first? Well, too late now.

The last thing he had expected was for Andy to be smiling.

She raised her eyes to his and immediately lowered the pen she was apparently using as a scratcher for inside her cast.

"You okay?" He still wasn't sure what to make of the situation. He had expected her to be upset, hurt, but she wasn't looking affected at all.

"Yeah, why?"

"I saw Callaghan talking to you. He didn't seem too happy."

Sam felt ridiculous. Maybe he was overreacting. She had survived so much, why was he expecting her to be practically all in tears over talking to Callaghan?

"You know what; I think I'm finally really over Luke."

He raised his brows. Was she faking it again? When was she going to realize there was no reason to hold back when it came to him?

Andy raised her hands in the air.

"Maybe it took a worse ex to get things in perspective. I think I just have to live with the fact that I attract the worst types," she said with an overly chirpy tone.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, look at the facts. Not that I'm comparing the fiasco with Luke with the other 'thing', that would be unfair, but it's like every guy I've ever dated has something wrong with him, one way or the other."

Sam sat next to her. He didn't really like her trail of thought.

"And you think this is somehow your fault?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Must be something about me, right?"

Sam sighed deeply and rested his hands on his knees. They've had conversations about this already.

The 'why me' question had been hanging around her head for a while now. Why did Owen kidnap her, and not someone else? Short answer: because he was crazy. But naturally McNally had needed the longer version.

Owen's psychosis was heavily bound to his father, sergeant Rodger Brooks. Owen hated him and was scared of him.

After a youth without a mother and an abusive father, he needed someone to feel close to, to bond with. Then there was Andy, another teen in a similar situation to his. They connected, and Owen focused all his attention (obsession) to Andy.

When his father sent him away after the whole kidnap-attempt at her school, he cut Owen out of his life. Owen was probably too scared to come back while his father was still alive.

When his father died, Owen lost it completely. All the rage he had built up for his father had no way to go anymore. So, when he saw Andy again, he focused his energy on her, also since making him stay away from her was his father's last act towards him. Kinda like a big middle finger to his late dad.

Conclusion: All this had nothing to do with Andy. She had the bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But how could he make her understand this?

And about Callaghan, he was just a jerk. He didn't appreciate what he had, his loss. Men (and women) cheated on their partners all the time. That didn't mean their partners did something wrong, it said more about the cheaters and their co-conspirators.

"McNally, there's nothing wrong with you," Sam was getting a bit frustrated on Andy's talent to put all the blame of the world on her own shoulders.

"How do you know?"

"Trust me, I know. Just because you haven't had the best taste in men, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you."

She tried to brush it off with a laugh.

"Maybe. But maybe I am cursed, and it works as soon as a guy falls in love with me."

Sam grunted back without thinking.

"I've been in love with you for two years, and I haven't noticed anything."

_Damn. _Did he really just say that out loud? He looked at her shocked expression.

_Yep, she heard it loud and clear. _What now? Could he shrug it off as a joke or something? Andy was supposed to be the one who spoke without thinking, not him.

"What?"

This was not how he had planned this. Not that he had it all planned out how he would show her how he felt about her, but definitely not like this.

Sam Swarek wasn't the type to talk about his feelings, and he wasn't the type to say the 'L-word' first, if at all. He was more one to show how he felt, rather than say it.

But he had spent so much time with Andy lately; he must have dropped his defenses too much when he was around her.

He smiled at her with a sheepish grin. "There's no curse. You just had bad luck in the love department, that's all."

He moved to stand up, trying to leave with some of his pride still intact, but she called him back.

"Sam?"

He could almost see the thoughts running through her head all at once. Was this really such a shock? Come on, everybody knew. She had to have known. Why else did she come to him the night of the blackout? She knew he would never turn her away.

He wanted to tell her to forget about what he said, but that would come across like he didn't mean it (he remembered the whole 'it was what it was' speech all too well), and he didn't want that, either. What's said is said.

But what could he say now? She sure wasn't saying anything.

Andy's big brown eyes were looking at him pleadingly, drawing him closer, and he just couldn't look away.

_What the hell, _he thought. He had already embarrassed himself, so why not take a chance? He scooted close to her and gently laid his hand in the nape of her neck, pulling her closer.

"I've wanted to do this since you tackled me in that alley," he said hoarsely while he leaned in to press his lips on hers. It was a light kiss, giving her every chance to withdraw and stop it. But Andy only leaned in closer as she parted her lips and answered his kiss with an intensity that stunned him.

Her hand was trailing through his hair as he stroked her back and placed soft kisses on her neck.

When they came up for air, they were both breathing heavily from excitement.

Andy was beaming, her face blushed red. "Two years?"

A lock of hair was falling in her face; Sam gently pulled it back behind her ears.

"Give or take a few months."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Her hand was still caressing him, distracting him from clear thought.

"Wasn't sure you wanted to hear it. And you had that whole thing with the detective."

_Not anymore. Didn't she just say she was over him?_

She was leaning in to kiss him again, and he accepted gladly. Her lips felt so warm, so good… If he could just take her home right now, he could show her exactly how he felt about her.

"Luke and I are done, forever. I think it would have been a big mistake to marry him, even if he hadn't cheated on me. And I've never felt about him as I feel for you." That was music to his ears. Could she really mean it though?

Sam kissed her again, this time their tongues met and his temperature rose even more. He was about to lose it when she pulled back from him.

"Not that I haven't thought about this for years as well, but you have the worst timing ever, you know that?"

There she went again. Was this her cue to run away again, just like the night of the blackout when he thought he had her, and then she was gone?

He should have thought about this. Even if she was receptive to him, it was way too soon. Andy had had a major trauma, and now he was trying to seduce her. Could he be more mistaken? Now he had ruined it all.

Releasing his hold of her, he created some space between them, giving his racing heart some time to slow down.

"I'm sorry. I know it's too soon after… Everything. I just want you to know I'm here for you if you need me." He gave a half-hearted attempt to shrug it off.

"I know," she said while she took his hand, not letting him get away.

"I wouldn't have made it the last couple of weeks if it wasn't for you. And you've always been there for me when I screw up. But that's not what I meant."

She gave him a rapid peck on the lips.

"I didn't mean it's too soon. I meant I'd rather be doing this if we don't have half a shift to finish and we're not at work."

She was right, he had almost forgotten where they were, it was just too easy to drown in those eyes, and touching her never felt wrong, either.

"Okay, I can see your point." They were really lucky no one had come in yet. He would never hear the end of it from his friends.

Best to remove himself from the temptation, so he stood up as fast as he could.

"Can I take you home after shift?" He already agreed to take her home before all this happened, but he thought it might be better to ask anyway.

Andy nodded while she straightened her ponytail and pressed her lips together in excitement.

Sam was almost at the door when he couldn't help it but turn back and kiss her once more, after which he forced himself to retreat.

"I'll see you after work. And as I've told you already, McNally, you most definitely didn't screw up."

* * *

"Is Swarek driving you home?" Traci practically fell on the chair next to Andy, who was left with nothing to say. How did she know? Could she tell from just looking at her? Did she see her leaving the locker room after Sam? Had she heard something? Who else knew?

_Oh. _Sam had already offered to take her home before he kissed her (she could still feel the soft touch of his lips on hers, why did they have to stop so soon?), and Sam driving her practically everywhere she needed to go was not exactly rare lately.

"Yeah." _Please don't ask me about him, because I'm about to spill everything and I don't even know what we're doing myself yet._

"Are you feeling alright? You look a little hot." She sure felt hot, but not from fever.

In a true mother-fashion, Traci put her hand on her forehead before Andy knew what was happening.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired, I think."

Far from tired, to tell the truth, but Traci didn't need to know that just yet. She kept replaying the scene with Sam in the locker room in her head. Had he really said he loved her? He said he had been _in_ love with her for two years, not exactly the same thing but close, right?

Was she crazy that this news made her so happy? She was supposed to be coping with her trauma, and everybody seemed to expect a mental breakdown from her.

But she was working on it. She was talking to the psychologist like she was supposed to, and she had confided in Sam. Did that mean she had to spend every waking second of her life wallowed in self-pity? Was she allowed to look forward to something again? And an evening with Sam (a real evening, not an evening where Sam had to console sad poor Andy) was surely something to look forward to.

Could she trust her own judgment this time, or was she acting too fast again?

Andy had held back from Sam to go for the 'safe' guy, but where had that gotten her? And with whom did she actually feel most safe? Sam; it had always been Sam.

They had major attraction towards each other, he understood her, and was always there when she needed him. He was stable, loyal and responsible (not to mention handsome), and very good at his work. And he genuinely cared for her, maybe even loved her. What exactly was so 'unsafe' about him? Wasn't he in fact the most dependable male she ever had in her life?

Traci was eying her suspiciously with one eyebrow raised. "Are you sure you're up to being back at work?"

Andy had to repress a grin or her friend would surely have made her for a crazy person.

"I'm sure, Trace. Couldn't be happier to be back, really." That was at least the truth. She couldn't be happier right now, and if that made her crazy considering the circumstances, so be it.

Sam was leaning against his truck when she walked into the parking lot, smiling from ear to ear. Why did he have to look so damn irresistible?

He grabbed her bag from her and tossed it on the back seat.

"Your place or mine?"

When Andy looked at him thoughtfully his smile dropped a little.

"Sam, what are we doing, really?" She hated herself for it, but she just needed some reassurance that this really meant the same for them both.

"Well, I thought…" He said suggestively while scratching his head.

"You know what I mean. How are we going to do this?"

Sam shook his head. "Dunno, no idea. I guess we'll have to figure it out as we go along." He laid his hand on her back, gently guiding her to his truck. She hesitated a little at first, but her effort was suddenly made very difficult by the warm feeling radiating off of him. What was she worrying about again?

"Don't overthink it, McNally. I'm just going to take you home and we'll talk."

Then he took her hand in his and all her resistance broke. He led her into the passenger side where she waited for him to get into the other side.

Andy observed him shamelessly as he climbed in.

"What if I don't want to talk tonight?"

Sam snickered before he bowed over and stroked her cheek, touched his nose to hers, and kissed her slowly.

"I think we've got the rest of our lives left to talk."

At home, he showed her how he felt about her better than words can ever say, and then again. Another thing to add to the list Sam Swarek was good at.

It felt so good making love to him, that she couldn't recall why she had ever been so scared to admit she wanted him. The explored each other's body with great care until late at night. There was no awkwardness at all (not counting the clumsiness of dealing with her cast); they just clicked together in wonderful blissfulness.

Later that night, as she lay in his arms with her head resting on his chest, she felt completely content.

_Let the nightmares come_, she thought as she listened to his steady heartbeat.

Sam would be right there next to her when she woke up, and he would help her make sense of the world again.

Andy felt she could conquer the world. After all, she was healthy, safe, and desperately in love.


End file.
